Coal Town ©
Thomas Matthew Edgar
Cobbled streets - dirty faces
lurking in depressing places.
Joyless, and devoid of graces-
Single-ends, with noisy children.
Hope is weak but anger's smouldrin',
Seething like a witches cauldron-
Black faced miners coughing blood,
trudging in an endless flood
through the rain and sleet and mud-
From their dungeons, damp and musty,
songs from miners, proud and lusty,
soulful tunes, with lyrics crusty-
When will this all bloody end?
Is there, up there, some kind of friend
who in their pity would me send,
from Coal Town?
Do you think I'll be the one
to struggle free and find the sun,
where life's not measured by the ton,
as it is in Coal Town?