MY SORROW HID IN SHAME
©Trev Teasdel Coventry 1970
And darkness flowed in like flood waters, the sun went to bed with the sea.
The moon now on night watch threw stars in the sky for to see.
I walked along the ring road footpath where vagrants and down and outs pass
And imagined myself to be one in the low state I was in.
I passed the wreck of a car to which I likened myself
Passed gravestones in the yard, gazed over at the Church of God
I stopped by a sign which read Salvation Army Hostels
And thought of hitching a ride But there was no traffic was in sight.
Til I saw the ghastly figure of a man who had been cast aside
Passed a couple in the doorway, ignored their request for a light.
I continued down a side road to a pub called the Hope and Anchor
Where beer smells make the wind unstable but found not a drop of hope nor anchor in my glass.
I passed houses now demolished, like my dreams lay in ruins on the ground
I thought of the face of the one I loved, and tears ran away from my eyes
I took a deep breath, the air tasted of meths, Oh to see the poor site of two city tramps
Lying like sacks on the ground, one begged a coin and the other a fag
My heart felt pity but pride held me back from giving my sympathy away.
As I entered the hall of a bright discotheque, my sorrow hid in shame
To think of all the friends and things I possess, compared to the men whose souls are lost
In the doorways of no consequence.