Vanessa Blacon Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Sheffield

So, I’m a glazier, right? Cut glass, fix windows, stare thru em all day. Whore’s like a cracked pane—shiny, sharp, dangerous if ya touch it wrong. Makes me think of that line, “The shame will remain.” Whore carries shame like a stench, but who put it there? Not her, nah. Society, man, fuckin hypocrites. Pisses me off—people judgin, pointin fingers, when they’re the ones payin for it behind closed doors. Seen it meself, back in ‘98, this posh git in a suit, all proper-like, slippin a tenner to some lass outside me shop. Busted window next day—coincidence? Ha, bollocks.

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Finally, I decide to call it a day. I’m walking back home, and I see the sunset over the River Dee. It’s beautiful. I stop for a sec, just taking it all in. Blacon, with all its quirks, is home.

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