Taylor
“We wrote these poems to try and bring more attention to the Museum of Croydon, as well as to add to its collection and express our own views of our home town. It is very important that we use our voices and share our opinions and views of where we come from. We based our pieces off of exhibits, for example I had written one based on the tree of life because I felt it spoke to me about togetherness, community and society. The other poem is a bigger response to all of the exhibits we saw as it made me want to challenge what people think about Croydon and Croydon's young people.”
Society
Everyone is linked. We are all a collective
That's what priestly tried to say that was his message
We are all one body. We are one tree of life
All connected by our roots
I said it once I'll say it twice
We are connected by our roots
Let me run it back I'm doing loops
Connected by our roots
What does that mean
It's about survival. Not as a person
But as a race
It's not about who’s fastest
It's about our species
You cant go off on your ones
we need assistance
Cause our system wont help us
We are a tree of life it's only us that can help us
We live our lives praying for
Somebody to praise us
We are struggling as a whole
But it us who needs to save us.
The truth about Croydon
If I want to
Get high
Does that really make
Me a thug?
If I don’t want a
Hug, I wasn’t shown love
what reason
To judge?
There’s no need
To make an assumption
You can’t guess
Based on an introduction
Where you come from
Vital but
For me my home is a place Everyone says goes down in a spiral
Its viral
For being called mad central
Everyone’s scared of here
And Its mental
It's like we're all mental
Afraid somebody gonna rob your rental
Why judgemental
...
It's not really
like that
Your More likely to die of
A heart attack
So what's the issue?
...
With this place?
Whys we labelled a disgrace?
Look at me?
Whatcha’ see?
A kid who wants a
Uni degree?
Or a kid who
listens to grime
Which means he wants to do crime
And end with time?
In Jail
...
Cause I come from here
Am I destined to
fail?
Not a sweet little boy Who
Runs around every morning
Delivering mail
in the rain and hail
Until he looks pale
...
This my home
Its where I'm from I'm proud of it
This place is a part of me
It's not just drugs and counterfeit
This is who I am
My home doesn't label me tragic
We're not all scabby ‘yutes’ round here
This is Croydon and its magic