East End Park
The fatter side of Leeds, where every man thinks he's a gangster, smokes like a dragon, wears tracksuits that scream 'I bought this at the charity shop,' and shoves Nike shoes on their toes like they're trying to beat up a donkey.
I walked past East End Park and it smelled like old pizza and regret.
My cousin got into a fight over a packet of fags and a broken chair.
The park’s so dodgy, even the pigeons run away.