'James' he said his name was.

Young potential, huddled and cold.

What can I offer that will help?

A bottle of juice and a can of dog jelly.

But when it’s all drunk

And gone,

What good is it then?

So I search for more to give,

But what have I?

I have no gift to bring,

(Pa rum pum pum pum)

That’s fit to give our...

Streets.

So I stoop.

Chewing gum pavement leeches the warmth from my pants.

Take my weak conversation as a humble offering James.

But I leave you no money. Nothing.

What will money buy?

Dog jelly.

I am a poor boy too, James.

I must get going James.

Back to my cosy hotel, dinner

My warm excuses,

James.

We have failed you,

I have failed.

This society so high

And mighty.

But what has it done for you James?

Stripped your education,

Raped your resources.

Left you high and dry

And cold.

And on your own: ‘old enough to cope’.

Who the f**k is old enough to cope?

Not me, James.

So I stoop,

Back into my comfortable little life.

Drown it all out with privilege,

And leave James behind

Again.

But his smile lingers,

And his cigarette smoke.