Blood, Sweat and Tears

Think just think, of all the blood, sweat and tears
London has shed with the passing of years.
The dirt, dust and smog, the noise and the grime.
Poverty, slavery, squalor and crime.

Ambitions and hopes, mad schemings and fears,
Disease, depravity, vice, wines and beers,
Arts and culture can pass the test of time,
City of contrast from base to sublime.

Historical monuments, long endears,
Symbolize prestige of people and peers.
Noise of the traffic and church bells still chime,
Rags next to riches, cultures rise from slime.

Millions of people have lived, worked and died-
London remembers few only with pride.

poem by Susan Mary Robertson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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