This is the suburbs,
Residential utopia,
Gardens disheveled and unkempt,
Children with blank faces,
Creaky marred front gates,
A young lady who hears all manner of sordid gossip,
A shed kept from prying eyes,
A policeman with lewd secrets of his own,
A community full of cliques,
A weary young man who keeps his basement locked,
A husband and wife who never look at one another,
A girlfriend head-to-toe in Stella Artois contusions,
A widow still in a black veil,
A crowded yellow school-bus never to get home,
Some utopia,
When perused closer,
Even the suburbs aren’t so idyllic.
WorldofHarley 
Reblogged this on Still Another Writer's Blog.
Ooo, Thank you!
The Oldschool Harlequin
Absolutely on target poem. I like the edgy quality. Nailed it.
You are too kind my friend! Thank you. I’m glad you liked it.
The Oldschool Harlequin
Reblogged this on WorldofHarley and commented:
Suburbs