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Friday 30 January 2009

End Of Innocence:


Many years I came to this farmstead
a life I did build for me an my family
the lands we toiled and turned
a home we built for us all
simple by my hands but fit for a king
furrowed and fertilised
ready for the spring crops
that would provide a summer harvest
for us all and one
a market we would go
and crops by fair hands
would pass to another
life was a comfortable existence
and the banker was mans best friend
we ran mighty strong fine horses
who pulled the ploughs
and collected the bales
and in the summers night
threasured wheat
ready for the miller
to make the finest of bread
for the working man
of this great land
upon my window
id stare and vast oceans
of rolling green fields
captured my eyes
twas to be sure a honour
to be a working man
of this great land
hard and back breaking
we didn't mind
for to be in gods company
sun rain and hail
was enough to feed any man
at my porch of a nite id sit
with farm hands a travelling
supping mead made from the fields bounty
sharing a pipe an a tale or two
life outside seemed to go by
faster then the rate of life here
people got faster
and cars shinier
banks got bigger and businesses
became Incorporated
leaving no space for the common man
whilst we worked on
in the burning summer sun
prices changed and costs soar
and what was once a reward for hard work
seemed but a empty gesture
for the surviving man
who seemed to have nothing
slowly one by one
they did sale up
giving lands to property developers
leaving nothing to chance
to escape what was before
a way of life
my hand i didn't turn or show
and on I worked
until one day they came
from the city
with fancy cars and brief cases
a writ was issued and my home possessed
broken was my heart
and lost was my soul
we left by night travelling the roads
city life had crept further out
as if tendril fingers
grasping and grabbing
consuming all that was before it
we searched high on high
and many a job I seeked
my hands roughened
my back strengthened
only to be told
a cheaper way is the steel horse
that works faster then you
and then I realised
theres no place for the common
working man
and that day part of the world died
now I am old and grey
my wife passed
and my children big cheese city folk
for they knew no other way
and the chair I sit
watching kin and folk pass me by
back I went not long ago
to the lands were I was happiest
stood there was my home
run down and bespoken
the lands dead and dry
were nothing not tended by loving hands
will ever grow once again
this is was the heart
of a once proud man
broken and mired
left to wilt and die
his cherished memories
inside his mind
only ever the reminder
when this great land
was but the common mans



1 comment:

Melech said...

This brilliant piece goes directly to the heart. Memories of "change" and of "times past".
"Progress", aye ? It makes one pause and reflect.
Yet another masterpiece.

Regards,
Melech