ANDREW BLAKEMORE - Factory

The factory now lies empty on the bleak and stark estate,
Its corrugated roof tops are all slowly falling through,
No burning fire in chimney stacks and all machines are still,
Hushed the days and evenings now there's no more work to do.

The weeds do grow within the yard where concrete has cracked,
Trucks no longer loading up their steel and copper freight,
Hands upon the clock tower both stopped turning long ago,
Time is frozen firmly locked behind that rusting gate.

Adorned with chains and padlocks and a fading 'Keep Out' sign,
Warning of the danger of the falling bricks inside,
Where once it was wide open as the workers did arrive,
But now is closed forever for the industry has died.

The grey clouds moving over and the rain begins to fall,
Sunlight rarely shines upon this barren town at war,
The windows mostly boarded in the houses on the streets,
No jobs and no salvation for the townsfolk anymore.

ANDREW BLAKEMORE

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