Grenfell Tower Fire Poem

This tower called Grenfell almost dropped to its knees nights ago.

20 + storeys of people, some of whom’s stories we will never know, were engulfed in its inferno.

Thick black smoke and orange flames blinded our sight a figures at balconies shone lights.

Out into the darkness, black and brown people called for help – spoke in a universal language of screams, cries and welps.

Like fireflies of Owl City, they stood amongst this building set alight.

“You would not believe your eyes if ten million fireflies lit up the world as I fell asleep” comes to mind.

Except these were hundreds of people, burning, on our televisions and phone screens.

And they are lighting up Kensington and Chelsea – one of London’s richest boroughs.

Such horror, to know that within 20 minutes, an entire tower block of homes could be turned to smoulder, and debris and now bodies.

A shock.

And for what?

To save pounds and pennies for the few and not the many.


For a moment suspend your disbelief and recognise that this area voted Labour last week.

The pictures of the victims and ‘missing’ shed light on this area’s demography: working class ethnic minorities.

Living a few stone throws away from the rich, middle-class and swanky – a juxtapositional tale of two cities.

And guess who is helping those who have lost everything?

The local community.

Such a pity.

The ones who themselves don’t have much to spare are sorting donations in the summer heat, giving survivors food to eat, offering a warm home with a cuppa tea and clean bedsheets.

Whilst millionaires across the street sheath, probably book fancy holidays to the Middle East to get away and put their minds at ease.

They retract sympathy when they see us protesting in the streets.

They want us to not change the status quo… instead, let it be.

In the words of Paul McCartney, let it be.


I pray we don’t.

I pray we force those who are responsible to take accountability if the government won’t.

I pray we don’t forget the faces and names of those whose lives were claimed, slain.

I pray for witnesses who saw the scene, I pray for those who were fast asleep thinking, hoping, wishing it was all a bad dream.

I pray the tears we weep dampen the fires we keep, that from our frustration comes productivity.

I pray we continue to place our anger and rage on the main stage so this crime stays on the first page.

I pray for the survivors and every victim of this austere system.

I pray Britain listens.




Thanks for reading!

Below are a few links to donation funds & petitions to support those who were affected by the tower fire and ensuring this doesn’t happen again and those responsible are held to account. I urge you to sign and give what you can.








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