Here's an excerpt from a longer poem i'm writing. It tells the story of 2 men growing up in the same place, with vastly different backgrounds and consequences - one's middle class and ends up homeless, the other is from a more modest background and ends up rich. It's inspired in part by Kate Tempest's Brand New Ancients but also from my own and others' experience. The name Tom is chosen because it's simple - the character is not me. Still a lot more to write!
"Tom spends sunny days by the burnt out see saw, no cash in his pocket but all the friends he could ask for. Tony doesn’t struggle, a wallet full of money but not as many mates to knock at the door. So some similarities – both 16, born on the edge of a millennium, both got a bit of heaven and hell in them. Tony’s happy with his lot, puts in just enough to get by, but Tom cuts corners - he’s street smart and sly. He knows he’s got nothing but knows not to show it. In a fight Tony runs but Tom knows how to throw it. Tone (to the few mates he has) is at the grammar, sporty and alright at maths. Tom’s at the comprehensive - knows the system and just how to beat it – gets full marks in most things even if it means cheating. Somehow he excels, repels his reputation as an upstart but still the clown of the class. He’s grown up with narcotics – a way of life not a hobby – so still finds the time to sell to nobodies. He sells to the kids who’ve got money for nothing, backgrounds of privilege and no benefits for cutting – weed, speed, whatever they need to alleviate the knowledge that it’s themselves they hate for not daring to dream. Tony’s on this bandwagon, this plug drain of a drug plain – spiraling inwards as the shit hits his innards. He scrapes through the system with mediocrity, head down sniffing so no one can see. This see saw has swung, the balance has changed, now Tom’s world is an oyster but Tony’s is strange – his choices are narrowed to more education or going insane."
"Tom spends sunny days by the burnt out see saw, no cash in his pocket but all the friends he could ask for. Tony doesn’t struggle, a wallet full of money but not as many mates to knock at the door. So some similarities – both 16, born on the edge of a millennium, both got a bit of heaven and hell in them. Tony’s happy with his lot, puts in just enough to get by, but Tom cuts corners - he’s street smart and sly. He knows he’s got nothing but knows not to show it. In a fight Tony runs but Tom knows how to throw it. Tone (to the few mates he has) is at the grammar, sporty and alright at maths. Tom’s at the comprehensive - knows the system and just how to beat it – gets full marks in most things even if it means cheating. Somehow he excels, repels his reputation as an upstart but still the clown of the class. He’s grown up with narcotics – a way of life not a hobby – so still finds the time to sell to nobodies. He sells to the kids who’ve got money for nothing, backgrounds of privilege and no benefits for cutting – weed, speed, whatever they need to alleviate the knowledge that it’s themselves they hate for not daring to dream. Tony’s on this bandwagon, this plug drain of a drug plain – spiraling inwards as the shit hits his innards. He scrapes through the system with mediocrity, head down sniffing so no one can see. This see saw has swung, the balance has changed, now Tom’s world is an oyster but Tony’s is strange – his choices are narrowed to more education or going insane."