A book of poetry by Stephen Morris with illustrations by the artist John Sweet
Excerpt
CHILDHOOD HELL
The only movement along the street
Was the sound of murder and running feet
One of the killers stopped to ask the way to hell
But in my shock I could not tell
So I pointed to my old junior school
For that was my hell, "the knave, the fool."
The only movement along the street
Was the sound of murder and my running feet.
