Over the tarmac hill we rumble
Amongst the sea of rapeseed fields.
With hunched backs and crinkled smiles
Hopeless silhouettes collected together on dampened bus seats.
Kirkcaldy lies just ahead
A town stood amongst the remains of coal dust.
Where once there was a promise of wealth for all
Hope Snuffed from the everyday man
by the bitter dead end of industry.
Cracks plastered over in the digital stream
A future generation of idle idealists
Deluded to the mess.
Under the arch we stoop in our stuffy double decker Skelton.
Through the moulded edged window, you can glance
At where Sea field used to sit.
The resting coal dust lies beneath
A housing estate for the destitute rich.
Yet the warm glow spreads from stranger’s eyes
To disguise the dampened corners.
and sooth the ever-closing fears that linger
under blue tinted finger nails.