Up and down the concrete tree,
The lift doesn't work,
The stairs are too many,
Our flat is number thirty-five,
Floor number twelve,
of this old concrete tree.
To look from the outside,
They all look the same,
Even on the inside they're just the same,
Maybe the colours are different,
But, cold grey concrete just the same,
Of this old concrete tree,
Built for you and me!
By debbie Reynolds.
All articles on this website by
debbie reynolds are copyright ©debbie reynolds and should not be reproduced
without the author's prior written consent. All opinions are the opinions of their
respective authors and are not necessarily the opinions of The Writers' Circle.