Tomorrow
Sitting in the café
Of this dark old valley town
Stirring up old memories
As the spoon goes round and round
And I think of my friends
Who should be here with me
But the headine of the paper says
They are lost, not to be found
They are all lost underground
So I trudge the quiet streets
In a constant drizzly rain
With my fists clenched in my pockets
Trying to ease the pain
The constantly spinning pithead wheel
Is motionless for today
As still as all my friends must be
In their coal filled grave
Too late for us to save
But we are all back to work tomorrow
No talk of disaster no talk of sorrow
Yes we’re all back to work tomorrow
Though our heads will be dark
And our hearts filled with sorrow
Yes it’s all back to work boys, tom
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Comments
Wow…this is such a sad write.  The lost of friends in a coal mine disaster especially when the bodies can't be recovered…I thinking about an explosion that happened in West Virginia a couple of years ago…the company that owned the mine cared about $'s instead of lives.  Many lives were lost due to the build up of gas.  Excellent write.
val
Hello Val, Thank you very much for your kind comments on my poem " Tomorrow ", The history behind the poem and others I have written on this subject is that I lost a lot of my family in coal mining explosions over the years, some here in Wales and others as far away as Winter Quarters in Utah. You are correct in saying that it is all about money back then and now, things have changed slightly in working conditions and the size of wage packets but the dangers are still there, only last year 3 men died in an explosion about 5 miles from where I live. Again Thank you for taking the time out to read my work, I will do the same with yours. Best Regards and Diolch ( Thanks ) Tim