Rise: City of mine

Friday began the moanfest From the delightful “he” number one

A concert he didn’t want was coming to town.
The other he, was excited he loves to sing

And dance weirdly to any music

He loves the atmosphere of a live concert.
Saturday moanie moan set off

All the way to the capital

Such a long way to The Pale.
Sunday he moaned about the train

Full of children going to a concert

The same one he was travelling to.
The other he, got up and danced

To the tunes of the young American

And ignored the girl children on the train.
Another concert in another town

And I remembered the girl childs 

No longer screaming the words of songs.
Wailing, screaming in the violent times

The city that rocks determined to stand

The kindness of strangers pervade.
My city will not cower or hide

In my city the people will rise

On a flood of lovingkindness.
The tragedy has floored “he” number one

As he realises it could have been his town

And the girl-children on his journey.
My city, the world is determined not

To be defined as hostages of fear, 

In a disconnected disassembled life.
My city rose not in anger or fear

It offered beds, food and drink

To the stranded and lost.
My city loves you see, there is

No judgement in Manchester

Only love, pure love. His love.

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