Through drifting cold autumnal glow

16 hours ends on whistles blow

The bunk cabin awaits the evening meal

Rice to boil and potatoes to peel

The lower deck is house and home

Photos of family held down by stone

Short nights of rest broke by the rats

Who bully the fat, lazy work yard cats

The wind howls through and cuts thin sheets

Barbed wire separates the streets

Passports held and wages small

3 thin men die beneath the wall

Up the buildings go regardless

No stinging whips, but no less heartless

Meanwhile in a land once called home

Empty shadows still as stone

Await some news or helping hand

From the man imprisoned beyond their land

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Emlyn Hall

Latest posts by Emlyn Hall (see all)

• Deconstruction - 11/02/16
• Depth - 22/03/15