We were once a thriving town
envied by ports from miles around
plenty of fish and jobs for all
and then the pride before the fall
the fish are gone, the jobs are few
the town no longer what we knew
yobs with drugs, no jobs or hope
just endless puffing on their dope
older people afraid to pass by
who saw the good times and wonder why
i hope my children fly this town
and find somewhere nice to settle down
a place where maybe dreams come true
with jobs, and hope and a future too.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Unfortunately this could be almost any town in the UK now - apart from the fishing history. Sadly... Love, Fran xxx