That Night (June, 2017) by Doug Berry I didn’t really feel I had the right, to write about that night, Because I was on the other-side of town, safely in a house, tucked up tight... I didn’t really feel I had the right, to write about that night, Because I am not considered poor, and am classed indigenously white... I didn’t really feel I had the right, to write about that night, Because I won’t ever know the extent of their horrific plight I didn’t see the dreadful scenes, hear the haunting screams, And experience the total fright Because the sickening stench I didn’t smell, From that brutally toxic, inferno hell... I didn’t really feel I had the right, to write about that night, Because it wasn’t mine that were affected, Or I wasn’t one, of the heroic braves, Whose own lives, they, without thinking neglected, To save those, so gravely afflicted... I didn’t really feel I had the right, to write about that night, Because I didn’t have to make split-second decisions, Or send texts asking for forgiveness I didn't flee the scene, still dressed in clothing made for lounging, With worldly possessions hurriedly thrown in a trolley, To escape the imminent danger, all-consuming And I didn’t have to frantically grab, A text book, on my perilous way out, So I could then incredibly and stoically, Still sit, later that day, in school, An exam, in G.C.S.E chemistry... I didn’t really feel I had the right, to write about that night, Because I wasn’t in the aftermath dealing, With the utter shock and total disbelief, Of what had just unfolded, with such ferocious speed, With people who had lost everything, and wanting immediate help, To deal with their every, catastrophic need... I didn’t really feel I had the right, to write about that night, But I can still share their sense of anger, of the senseless surrender, Of lives, whose tremendously unfulfilled potential, Was not deemed to be as good, as those others, in the rest of the neighbourhood And the time elapsed for support to be finally given, Left to others in grief to organise their relief Then to suffer the spouting from platitudinous politicians, Though some did rightly meet, those who really mattered, But in one stark case, it was so scandalously selected... I didn’t really feel I had the right, to write about that night, But I can still share their sense of rage that the numbers aren’t right, And wanting answers, to know how this could happen, in 2017 Britain? Especially why they had glibly dismissed, so many warnings previously given? And what now for those lives, severely shattered? And others in similar situations, now scattered? Then being incensed at the crass cuts, But still millions spent, and crudely cutting corners, To save money on cladding, never fit for purpose, Which was not anyhow necessary, Just made, to make the ‘eye-sore’ to others, Seem more aesthetically pleasing... Well they now have a ghastly, ghostly blot as a reminder, of just what can happen, When life is so easily, and neglectfully cheapened... I didn’t really feel I had the right, to write about that night, But I can still share their fear for the future, As restlessness and division grow deeper We don’t want a repeat of what’s gone before, But when voices aren’t heard, Then some feel they don’t have a choice... I didn’t really feel I had the right, to write about that night, But I still would like to sincerely salute, such a courageous community, For taking stock of the situation, and giving all that they got And showing what they have got, is worth far more, Than those lot, who really couldn’t give a jot, have got... I didn’t really feel I had the right, to write about that night, But I have, and I’m glad as I can take heart, From those many that do care, as was seen, Who came together and showed others, That what in the end shines through, And what really matters, is the human spirit to pull through, With compassion and love to overcome, And a belief in the greater, communal good... Justice for Grenfell