The Good Old Days

Sulphur and malt air,
empty bellies,
ill fitting apparel..
feet that don't care..
starkness ..
coldness..
a pea soup spewing,
it's all in abundance,
men roll out the barrel,
and bury their sorrow..
and breed Mother's ruin.

God bless they found
laughter,
God bless,
they found solace..
joy and happiness.
in this life -
if not the next