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With you there is no hiding place, I have to sit full view.
Totally exposed, approachable, to the many, not the few. On Main Street, within pavement crack, in tarmac, next to kerb. Surrounded by the every day noise, busy-ness, chaotic blurb. No bushel here to keep me under, no shadow to disappear. Only full sun, bright and constant, plain visible and just clear. Witness to every speeding car, beacon to passer by. Stood as a signpost in the air, reaching for the sky. Screeching from the tree tops, of just who I really am. Standing tall so viewable, from elderly to the pram. Here I state my territory, piss up against the wall. Leave my scent on wooden fence, usher clarion call. Sirens whirl and engines roar, motorised deafening din. Throttle down, no breaking power, all to the maximum, not the min. Grinding out the daily tasks, front and centre all the way. No ducking, no diving, opting out, forever in the fray. Called upon to service, clock strikes time enough. Seconds out the bell has gone, to strip down to the buff. No place for shame or guilt there is, no falsehood to be won. Only to thyself be true, of shining bright and keeping shone. By Simon Blackler Copyright © Simon Blackler 2020 If you care to comment on this poem at all please feel free to do so below.
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February 2026
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