Everyman in the 80s…

I just love ‘The Smiths’. I’ve been rediscovering them recently…returning to the recurring theme of my teenage angst.

It’s just about average people… who feel invisible and insignificant…Getting through life… drowning in tragedy of insignificant proportions. Gasping in the banal and the mediocre

Love these-

Me and my true love will never meet again

Last night I dreamt that somebody loved me. No hope, no harm, just another false alarm

Loved and lost…. May the lines sag heavy and deep tonight.  From the one you left behind.

At the record company… On their hands a dead star.

But to you I was faceless I was fawning I was boring. A child from those ugly new houses.

 

This poetry speaks proudly and loudly of the victim-helpless child we all try to hide and cover up with adult ‘responsible’ behaviours.

It pronounces the pain of existing… the secret fears, wishes and fantasies most of us will never admit to.

It seems to me the more we admit and accept our pain… we can start from a place of honesty and enjoy life that bit more.

 

 

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