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Scottish Charity Register No. SC043760

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Walking down Arlington

December 01 2022

A rhyming story written in the vernacular. Step on to the streets surrounding Arlington hostel, Camden. By Eve McDougall

Walking down Arlington Road,
Hiding fae the people in my shabby clothes,
Laughing in the sun on a showery day.
Hiding in the shadows,
Dodging the light,
Like a mongrel dog,
Keeping out of sight,
Like a mongrel dog.
Lying on a park bench looking at the stars,
Tramping around picking up dog ends from outside of the bars,
Eating from the gutter on a hunter’s moon.
Thought the streets of London were paved wi’ gold,
Now am homeless getting old, lying in filth outside Camden Town underground.
Shivering in the dark an it’s battering with rain,
On a bench in Regent’s Park, soaking wet freezing tae the bone.
Crouched in the doorway of a bank out of my face
Awe that money behind me but a don’t have a key,
Out my face on this grey dreich day,
Streets above, streets below, hard roads I don’t even know.
Climbing high in the light of the spiders web,
Walking through the shadows of yesterday,
Waiting for Harry Krishna van down Arlington.
Cold, cold nights, don’t know if I’ll wake when the daylight breaks,
Hoping for the sun tae warm the skin forget the long bitter harsh nights,
It’s a living crime in the shadows down Arlington Road,
In the shadows down Arlington Road.

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