As usual the Image is supplied and credited by Ermilia
A HARSH REALITY
by John Yeo
The very wealthy man had a vision, he approached the local authorities with a large sum of money, to be used for the good of the local people who still lived in the town where he grew up as a lad.
The plan was for a green space, with flowerbeds, pretty shrubs, and trees where wild birds were able to perch and nest. Many benches were to be strategically set up, to allow elderly folk or mothers to rest while their children were at play. Waterfowl were to be encouraged to swim on the stream, flowing through this oasis of rest and tranquility and a yearly annuity would be set aside for the upkeep and maintenance of his dream.
His plan was welcomed with open arms by the grateful folk, who served on the town council, and an agreement was quickly reached. The Mayor named the park after this very generous benefactor, and a statue of him was erected in a small enclosed garden in the centre of this beautiful green open space in memoriam of his generosity.
Ten years later there was an extraordinarily brutal killing in the town, and the news media were congregating at an overgrown, neglected, little-used open space set in the middle of an urban conurbation. A young lady was standing alone with tears streaming down her cheeks, amid the littered open area in the centre of this rundown little park. Empty beer cans and plastic bags were everywhere under the rusted broken seats and carelessly tossed into a stream that was flowing through. A moss-covered, chipped and broken, unrecognisable statue had been overturned and upended into the water.
"Why are you crying Miss?" Asked a hard-bitten seen-it-all news reporter.
"I cry for the love of my Grandfather who had a dream that is now shattered and smashed by unthinking unashamed vandals. I cry for the visible drop in the standards of living, that allows the memory of a very caring man to be ground into the dirt and detritus of drink-sodden ne'er-do wells. Above all I cry for justice to be meted out to the killers of my beloved sister who was abused and murdered here in the very place where his dream came to fruition. God may have mercy on their vicious souls! "
Copyright © Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved.
by John Yeo
The very wealthy man had a vision, he approached the local authorities with a large sum of money, to be used for the good of the local people who still lived in the town where he grew up as a lad.
The plan was for a green space, with flowerbeds, pretty shrubs, and trees where wild birds were able to perch and nest. Many benches were to be strategically set up, to allow elderly folk or mothers to rest while their children were at play. Waterfowl were to be encouraged to swim on the stream, flowing through this oasis of rest and tranquility and a yearly annuity would be set aside for the upkeep and maintenance of his dream.
His plan was welcomed with open arms by the grateful folk, who served on the town council, and an agreement was quickly reached. The Mayor named the park after this very generous benefactor, and a statue of him was erected in a small enclosed garden in the centre of this beautiful green open space in memoriam of his generosity.
Ten years later there was an extraordinarily brutal killing in the town, and the news media were congregating at an overgrown, neglected, little-used open space set in the middle of an urban conurbation. A young lady was standing alone with tears streaming down her cheeks, amid the littered open area in the centre of this rundown little park. Empty beer cans and plastic bags were everywhere under the rusted broken seats and carelessly tossed into a stream that was flowing through. A moss-covered, chipped and broken, unrecognisable statue had been overturned and upended into the water.
"Why are you crying Miss?" Asked a hard-bitten seen-it-all news reporter.
"I cry for the love of my Grandfather who had a dream that is now shattered and smashed by unthinking unashamed vandals. I cry for the visible drop in the standards of living, that allows the memory of a very caring man to be ground into the dirt and detritus of drink-sodden ne'er-do wells. Above all I cry for justice to be meted out to the killers of my beloved sister who was abused and murdered here in the very place where his dream came to fruition. God may have mercy on their vicious souls! "
Copyright © Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved.
RSS Feed
