Who can identify the town that is the primary focus of this lament?

The Sky Reflects Our Labours

Her calloused hands and tired eyes,

are grey and wet and green and steely;

her gaze is stoic, and often flinty

at the JobCentre counter, as her future dies.

The grey-blue smoking ramparts march,

graven beyond the terracotta houses;

their Wellsian vision of War arou...

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