I Am

I am the shadow which follows hard on your heels late at night, hood covered face, feral eyes gleaming under the street lamps.

I am the teenager aimlessly hanging around decrepit shops, their windows plastered with ads for “massage”.

I am the 14-year-old child who asks you to buy cigarettes or alcohol on my behalf. You pretend not to hear as you hurry on by.

I am the single mother, yelling at my kids,my once pretty face lined with care.

I am the drug addled thief, householder’s beware.

I am the one the press like to blame, “Those feckless people, have they no shame?”

You fear or placate me. I am your shame. Stubborn, immovable the underclass is my name.