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A Miners Tale

Contributed by thewizard on Sunday, 12th July 2009 @ 12:03:17 AM in AEST
Topic: StoryPoetry

Birds are singing, in the early morn
Flickering lights, behind curtains drawn
A father and son, say a small prayer
Filling their lungs, With pure, fresh air

Clutching tins, of cheese and bread
Remembering friends, those now dead
Men who perished, deep underground
Where, black gold, could be found

Men and boys, walk down the street
Silence except, boots on their feet
Big wheels unmoving, waiting their prey
For brave miners, to start their day

A look of fear, in some boys eyes
Maybe the last time, seeing star lit skies
Into the abyss, down to blackened coal
Welcome to hell, this darkened hole

Copyright © thewizard ... [ 2009-07-12 00:03:17]
(Date/Time posted on site)

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