PITMEN

Built in rows the pit houses grow

Like snakes across the landscape,

Railway tracks slither to the mines

Children playing on cobbled streets

As the sun breaks through a cloud of coal dust.

Whispering smoke curling, mingling with the clouds,

The smell of fresh-baked bread fills the streets;

The sound of hobnailed boots eching to work:

Tea cans, sandwiches in a tin dangling in hand.

Whippets are trained for the coming race

To keep out the rats that live at the face,

Proud are the men of their running dogs.

Down at the club stories are told

Of the men that gave their lives,

The great escapes;

The black embedded scars;

From pit-props and picks:

Or just a bang on the head.

A darkened world drifting for miles

The narrow seams scraped into the sides,

With blackened skin knees rubbed bare

Smiling faces working for their pay;

To drink their ale,

Until, until the next shift comes round.

Reviews

[a]

This is fantastic! I love the atmosphere, the storyline and the characters. True lyrics. Maybe there isn't any part of the poem in the particular I love, but altogether it's amazing!
thank you!