New Kingswood

Blaze’s statue stood tall
But his words had flown away like
Birds that for the Winter take flight.
The homely green was dust, the moisture all brown
And at mid day it looked already mid night.

Senior boys, like ghosts, marched from class to class
Their brains dripping like thick fluid from their arse.
Trees had no crowns, May flowers no longer fell
And in paradise it looked like a day carved out from hell.
In an empty, desolate landscape one heard a chiming bell.

Characterless men who came here
Always learned a lesson their character to lift.
Fide et Virtute lie with broken ribs and sides
With no one with courage or manliness swift
To carry it to safety from where it has fallen from heights.

A silent, eerily silent wind buzzed:
And that was the New Kingswood that
In a garish dream last night I saw:
A land laid out to rust and wither,
A universe divorced of gravitation’s law.
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