Orla Blakelock provides the conclusion for our 80/20 project with her written piece, My London.

My London



See, I’m not the type to open up and profit


To take a stand and order others to sit

Not the type to seek refuge in a place that promises to be kind

To give my mind – peace of mind

No, I’d rather have a face that expects to feel the drama

The untold atmosphere of warped and backward karma

See, my London is one which pours out intellect

Relates to bloody crimes with a poorly lead etiquette

“Hello this is the ten o’clock news”

Painted faces and detached views –

Of a world that never seems to be tangibly ours

Forever fed with chains and bars

See, I see what there is to dine on

This mockery we’re left to fill our stomachs on

And yet I’m always left with a hunger and a thirst, for truth -

A revolution, now that would be…uncouth

No need to riot for your rights

We’ll give them to you with a side of, light bites

We’ll put in the laws and take out the goods

And leave you with the dreams you thought you could, have

See, this ideology of freedom has left me fit to burst

The contents of my stomach are blackened and cursed

The remnants of children’s bones

The innocence that never moans

The innocence that plays in your living room