The Wreckers:
A Poem By Pete Marshall
The bells would chime as lowered heads
Would march in line to pay their debts
But coppers weighed on ravaged hands
As wolves would bay in greedy clans
And nights would close on darkened rooms
Where paths were chose that led to doom
And on the beach from tunnels deep
The ships would breach as wreckers meet
Amongst the brine the cries of men
That took to crime to feed their bairns
Whilst sailors drowned in torrid seas
And booty found beseeched by pleas
They climbed the rocks and journeyed home
As hope would mock their tired bones
But death would lay upon the cliffs
When state would claim their laden gifts
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You might or might not know but a lot of my poetry has been inspired by my experiences with being unemployed? I have written a series on this which can be viewed on the following link, My Struggle With Unemployment.
The above piece came about by the thought of how far you would go to feed your family when faced with mounting debts & hard times. I then began to think back to a time so much different from the one we live in but when these problems were just as rife. The wreckers tells a tale of a village whose men paid the ultimate price.
If unemployment has affected you in any way, if you would like to talk about it, share your experiences, then I am willing to hear. You can leave a comment or email me.
Regards Pete
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image courtesy creative commons flickr http://www.flickr.com/photos/cpieters/
