2F

There was this place I grew up in
A place I knew
A place where everyone fit in
A place that held all but few

2F they called it
And they came in droves
In cars, on bikes
In autos
But bored

Three rooms it had
One was his
One was mine
The other held everything
That had ever passed through time

It had a balcony that overlooked some cars
Some were old and rusted
Some were new
Some covered
But all of them grew

Not in size
But on us
When they left
They were replaced
By more still
Spoils from a criminal race

One room had a view
That was blocked by glass
Which was covered in dust
That grew and grew
Till there was no more view

The big brown couch
Was the favourite place
To sit,
To pass out
It set the pace

For the two chairs around it
And the table in front
A chair with air
A translucent green
Thrown about
Till it lost its sheen

A small table in the midst of it all
Screamed when showered in vodka
The spoils of a party
The mark of a few Rastas

Then there was another table
With two legs that became four
Six chairs around it
And it faced a door

As big as it was
It could never hold
The amount of people
That called 2F home

Right next to that was a big blue fridge
Well past retirement
Rusty hinges
And a stale smell of peppermint

There she stood
Big and cold
With a big blue door
That could hold and hold
Posters and stickers
And flyers and all
Everyone saw it
As they passed through the hall

That fridge as I recall
Probably had more on it
Than inside
At all

And oh yes
It was against a wall

A wall that saw 2 people grow old
One of them die
They saw a house full of children
Who had hopes till the sky

Five feet of smoke
Would linger in the air
Every day of every week
It would be there

All those who came in
Had something to say
Had something to give
And something to takeaway

Change would be collected
Cigarettes and cream buns bought
For those who seemed strong
Yet otherwise distraught

A motley crue of assorted nuts
From almonds and cashews
To those out from a rut

It was a place anyone could visit
To sit down and smoke
Or drink like the fish
Till they dropped to the floor

For festivals they treated
The house as their own
Contributions from some
And others unknown

From decorating to drinking
And dancing and trying
To prancing and falling
With incredibly stale wine
Christmas lights
And trees
With ornaments from beyond
Those who were about
Would always belong

From the stains to pains
And the curious stuff on the floor
To the clean days
And apple juice
And dinner
Wolfed down as never before

With a kitchen that was never used
But used all the same
Not for cooking
But telling friends we loved them
And would love to have them again

From hugs and kisses
And movies and booze
And smoking and eating
We didn’t need an excuse

2f they’d say
And some would frown
But the love that was around
It wouldn’t die down

Nor did we want it to
And nor did it do
Fuckity fuck fuck fuck
And dum-diddly-doo

A house, a home
A place, Rome
Civilizations may fall
But memories will stay on
In our heads
In our hearts
From the days of the plenty
To the days of the not so
So you remember the donuts
Whisking to and fro?

And then came the end
The end that was so near
The end that seemed far away
The end that was dear

When the dust found its place
And the old things could rest
The voices that held so much promise
Had finally left

But left not in sadness
But with joy in the heart
For they can always go back
And visit the start

The start for me
The start for most
The start that will never
Ever
Ever
Ever
Become a ghost

But will stay on in the minds
Of those that have left
It was mine long ago
And for that I feel blessed

The things that went on
In room after room
All had their stories
All have been marooned

Tethered and anchored
And safely dropped
They’re contained in the walls
Till the walls begin to talk

And maybe they will
And maybe they won’t
But whatever they do
They will hold fort

So here’s to the people
Who made home what it is
What it was and what it is

To everyone that ever went through
Annoying and nice
To those that danced
To those that like mice
To those that drew
So many, so few
To those that sang
Deep into the night
To those that smoked
Till it was twilight
To those that spilled
Their hearts on the floor
To those who were weak
But now never more
To those that were strong
And courageous and brave
To those that went mad
And tried to rave
To those who hid booze
Like ants in a tree
To those so sweet
It seemed motherly
To the tattooed
And the not
To the ones that thought they were fat
But actually were not
To the footsteps and the voices
And the songs and the smoke
We’ll all meet up
Have a few tokes
But now is it finished?
I should think not!
It will live on
Believe it or not

Longwinded as it seems
It’s not nearly enough
To explain and paint
The pictures in the trough
So keep what you learnt
And build and build
It was a gift
To all of us
Drilled with riddles

What we learnt and we will know
To face everyday
To go with the flow

So here’s to 2F
The place I call home
Farewell farewell
I will remember you all
For evermore.