Tommyknocker

TommyKnocker

Light grows dim,
Between the thin..
and the top hard
Barnsley seam..
I feel dank fear,
as black is near,
and all I have..
is within..
I've heard the tales.
of Welsh gremlins,
and Cornish elves,
and laughed right
down my shins..
But I do not wish
to see a Tommy Knocker...
Please..
theres a rattle..
and a tremble in my skin,
I hear a tiny rumble
and like a ship listing .
I touch the sides of
inner fright..
but outwardly 
with will and might 
Not one soul would 
know how I'm feeling..
it's in the black of
my eye..
and only a miner
would know why..