historicalpoem (Remove filter)
Boots 1
The boots are quite small to fit small feet
They are pulled on before sunrise
Sleep being forsaken, for there is work to do
And being late is out of the question
The boots walked along the well-worn track
To the place of noise and danger
For another day of clearing cotton fluff
Dodging the scary machinery that could crush her in a second
The dirt and smell sometimes making ...
Saturday 13th June 2020 6:04 pm
Recent Comments
Stephen Gospage on Decades
4 hours ago
Alexandra Parapadakis on Drifting
5 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on G.E.N.O.C.I.D.E (Spelling It Out) updated & with audio
11 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Letter From The Southern Ocean
14 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Blake Morrison sends protest poem to newspaper’s letters page
14 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on The Home Secretary is a Barrel-Maker and her Boss is a Tool
15 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on The Home Secretary is a Barrel-Maker and her Boss is a Tool
1 day ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on The Home Secretary is a Barrel-Maker and her Boss is a Tool
1 day ago
John Coopey on BREAD AND MUCKY FAT
1 day ago
kJ Walker on BREAD AND MUCKY FAT
1 day ago