IN the heart of Peel Hall,

Children run wild, the only place laughter is free,

There are whispers of concrete, of plans to erase,

The last breath of green in this shrinking space.

The fields that were once ours - now sold like dirt,

The lifeblood of the land smeared on a shirt

Of some distant suit, who’ll never see

The loss, the pain, the stolen dreams of trees.

Deprived kids clutch dandelions, bright,

Their only gold beneath the fading light.

As the fields of play begin to vanish, bit by bit our land is stolen away.

Where will they run? To streets of grime,

Where hope is scarce, where joy’s a crime.

Their last wild space snatched for profit’s throne,

Leaving them lost, and more alone.

They’ll pave over meadows, tear down the sky,

Do they even care who’ll pay the price, or why?

And what of the children who will grow where we stood,

Breathe artificial air, not the scent of the wood?

The rich pass through, while the poor are pushed away. And now the doctors’ queues will stretch and strain,

For rich commuters crowd in, again and again.

School places stolen, no room for the rest—

The local kids squeezed out, second at best.

They’ll come from Liverpool, from Manchester’s might,

Driving through the wreckage of our stolen night.

These homes aren’t for us, just for those who can pay—

The rich pass through, while the poor are pushed away.

As developers assure us is fine, there is nothing to fright,

How can they sleep knowing they are stealing from deprived?

As they hug their children, put them to bed,

Not one thought goes through their head,

As they take from the disabled and those who are seeking hope,

Not one tear is shed for the children of the council estate.

But of course who cares when there are houses to build, profits to be made,

The people that we voted for with a ballot, failing to protect the spaces of the vulnerable yet again.

As I write this with a tear in my eye, I do wonder what there is left for young people like me,

Forced to leave this place behind,

Seeking greenspaces, opportunity and education elsewhere as the place we once called home gets synthesised.

TRINITY THOMP

Warrington