´óÏó´«Ã½

By kind permission of the Author

If They don’t paint the pavements’ edge
In stripes of black and white
Then someone coming home from town
With heavy bags at night
With bargain china, hard to find
In war-time stores at all,
Might trip and fall and break the lot
And weep for bitter gall
That someone’s birthday gift was lost
And irreplaceable
And if you were that child who saw
Such inconsolable
Engulfing grief you then would feel
An overpowering rage
At all the faceless They who failed
To paint the pavement edge.

‘This story was submitted to the People’s War site by ´óÏó´«Ã½ Radio Merseyside’s People’s War team on behalf of the author and has been added to the site with his/ her permission. The author fully understands the site’s terms and conditions.’

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