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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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