Lang Town

 

 

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.

 

 

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