The seamans mission closed for good
In the dark and dirty street
An old man full of rum
Each stranger he tries to greet.
Three years on, paint is flaked
Dirty curtains, dusty gutter
A thousand ghosts to visit
Many souls to mutter.
They closed the seamans mission
Next door to the grubby pub
Where the rum flowed freely
At the bar the sailors stood.
So many tales, long and short
Of how they sailed each wave
Mostly lies and comedy
But entertaining tales.
Yes the seamans mission closed
A part of yesteryear
But the old man still tries
The handle of the door.
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Author:
nephilim56 ( Norman Dickson) (
Offline) - Published: December 20th, 2023 04:12
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 6
Offline)
Comments1
Filled with pathos. Reminds me of when my brother!s local was shut down. Grown men cried. It was their social club for years. I understand this poem entirely. The last two lines are brilliant.
you are very kind thank you for those words
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