The Winters Rose
Anon - 1981
In deep mid winter
on the dole
Snow on the ground
And we have no coal
Shelves are empty
and we dont have bread
But a rose has blossomed
and a heart is dead
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Previously on "Friday Poetry Corner - Out of work and got no money = Dead End Britain"
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REMEMBER THE PROCESSION OF THE OLD YOUNG MEN
Dylan Thomas
Remember the procession of the old-young men
From dole queue to corner and back again,
From the pinched, packed streets to the peak of slag
In the bite of the winters with shovel and bag,
With a drooping fag and a turned up collar,
Stamping for the cold at the ill lit corner
Dragging through the squalor with their hearts like lead
Staring at the hunger and the shut pit-head
Nothing in their pockets, nothing home to eat.
Lagging from the slag heap to the pinched, packed street.
Remember the procession of the old-young men,
It shall never happen again.
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Friday Poetry Corner - Out of work and got no money = Dead End Britain
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There's a crack up in the ceiling,
And the kitchen sink is leaking.
Out of work and got no money,
A sunday joint of bread and honey.
What are we living for?
Two-roomed apartment on the second floor.
No money coming in
The rent collector's knocking, trying to get in.
On a cold and frosty morning,
Wipe my eyes and stop me yawning.
And my feet are nearly frozen,
Boil the tea and put some toast on.
I'm deep in debt
and now it's much too late.
We both want to work so hard,
We won't get the chance,
Gonna die - on dead end street.Last edited by AlfredJPruffock; 22 October 2010, 11:46.
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