When the air’s full of bits and your lungs get all clogged, and they plan to build houses on what’s really a bog.
When the roads are all jammed and the traffic can’t move, then who is to blame? Is it you?
Did you put up a fight and march and sing, or sit on your bum and do other things?
So shout, object, write a very strong letter, and take a stand to make things better.
And in May when you vote just think of this, are we slowly sinking into an abyss?
Of not enough doctors or schools or nurses, where developers line their fine silk purses,
With guarantees of at least 12 per cent profit, money that’s coming out of our pocket.
It’s not too late to raise strong objections, to ten-storey towers, intruding erections,
Don’t let them build so high in the sky, ugly carbuncles up where the gulls fly,
When the sewage backs up because plans weren’t in place; when the money runs out to make the air safe,
When asthma and wheezing are on the increase
When children goes miles to get to their schools,
When flats are sold as seconds homes,
We will pause, and think and shake our heads.
We knew it would happen. It is what we dread.
But no one listened to what we said.
Fairfield Close, Shoreham
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