We didn't know, so long ago
in our tiny textile town
when they closed the first mill down
it would not be the last to go
Everything would be alright
grown men working part time jobs
late night worried, anguished sobs
the unemployed now taking flight
The other mill was still going
long gone the days of over time
managers watching every dime
winds of change had started blowing
Some businesses now closed the door
remaining shelves not quite full
hopes that it was a mere lull
less money than there was before
All graduates moving away
to thriving cities scattered far
having more than just a single bar
where they had a chance to earn some pay
Things were slowly running down
as paint and people began to peel
with increasingly desperate feel
and then the final mill left town....
The schools were all closed down last year
the too few children bussed away
post office boarded yesterday
lone cafe the only business here
Now all left here are growing old
retired and living on stipend
each awaiting their own end
who will see their story's told?
Even I must now take flight
from where I've lived my entire life
somewhere that opportunity is rife
will last to leave turn out the light?
Comments
Ghost Town
Hi, Stan. Your poem is the first one I have read since being back. I sure missed reading you. This is just wonderful and very true to life. Great poem.
Love,
Faith
hi Faith
Welcome back. Looking forward to reading you again. Thanks for the time to read and comment on this effort.........stan
You are most welcome
Thank you, Stan. I'm so happy to see you are still here and can't wait to read more of your wonderful poems, this one being no exception.
Love,
Faith
theo
The TOWN is the victim. Your comment is a perfect example of reading a poem with a preconceived notion of what will be found within it. Even high school teaches to READ WHAT IS THERE. I have already written some on how this "recession" has affected some individuals and am not yet done writing such. This is a poem of the effect on an entire town of losing its major employer.regards................stan
hi
This poem is what it is. I expect that few poems ever please everybody, and I have never claimed to be anything other than a beginner poet. "Quality " is in the eye of the beholder..............stan
corporations merged
corporations merged
or left for parts unknown
somewhere 14 cents an
hour puts more money into shareholders pockets
and CEO's coffers
it's a ghost town now
and the graves are filled with
voices of the past
when America was America
and Democracy ruled
with cold hard cash
but that was just a story
we believed to be true,
and if Capitalism has its day,
the WTC
will rise above the ashes
of another town, brought down
by greed
no bombers applied for jobs,
and none were to be found in the
wreck that is Middle America,
goodbye,
goodbye,
we hardly had a chance to know you,
and the grass is always greener
somewhere else, we didn't know
it's true,
we were too busy to pay attention,
and now, and now
it's just too damned late,
Ohio is a red teaparty state.
~
.
~A
hi
That is a good example of looking at the subject from another point of view...............stan
this is a great
this is a great personification of the small town in turmoil. i like the rhythm and rhyme in this piece. the flow was effortless. the alliteration, assonance, internal rhyme, all subtle and integrated well. you gave this "everytown, usa" a voice, a soft poetic voice. lovely work. :)
~lori
Hi Lori
I am pleased you enjoyed this..................stan
Yo Stan the Man,
Yo Stan the Man,
Thank you for the extemporaneous inspiration (did you notice I even rhymed it in places?) Sent a copy to Deep Cleveland, our local ezine on facebook as of late. Who knows, it might even be published.
Any poem that inspires is good, n'est-ce pas?
~A
hello
It is always good to get people to think on a poem enough to inspire them to write on same or similar subject. Good luck on your poem being published..............stan