Tuesday, 22 January 2013

The Sunny Side Of The Street

When I was young we lived on the sunny side of the street
One day I crossed over but was told to go back to my own side
When I was a little older I walked a little further
And I reached the street that lay at the far side of the hill
They told me I was not from there and should go home
When I was a teenager I went to the next town
And those there said I talked differently and I should not be around
When I became a man I moved to the big city down south
And every day of every month of every year they said I did not belong
When I was older I travelled overseas and they said that on my island we did things differently and I should go back to my homeland
When I was retired I moved away to the other side of the ocean
And they asked why I was on their side of the big sea
When I became ill they asked me why I was in that hospital ward
Should I not return to where the others sit?
When I died they said they could not bury me there
That I should be laid to rest on the sunny side of the street.

bobby stevenson 2013

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