I press the lift button
awaiting the passage gates to open
Hoping the stench of urine won’t poke in
As the gates close in
I breath in and visualise for a moment
what the day might bring –
or really, what Iʼm hoping the day might not bring:
A new patient, stab wounds and broken,
dressed in blood, hopeless, his life paused.
But enough with the day dreams –
Here in the hood Iʼm constantly interrupted by day screams,
It seems to me that you’re lucky if you walk these streets
and can take that south London air in without looking left or right,
day or night.
Iʼm lucky if I see the next 24.