Lawns mowed in rhythm,
cars washed in time,
children smile in tune.
Pristine paint protects
the inside from gossip.
Ivy wraps its lie of deceit
around them all.This air of respectability
hangs heavy
from gas-fired hearths.Polished brass
shines out its brazen front,
disguising the tarnished truth.Each couple smiles
with false delight,
contempt dripping
from every breath.Slipping silently
into un-faced debts.
Vows destroyed
in shame.
Tongues committing
crimes of hateuntil the net-curtain-retreats
are not enough
and these civilised fortresses
crumble
into open attack –disrepute and scorn.
© Nicky Clifford 2016
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