Standing Still Poem by Angela Wybrow

Factories, once engulfed by workplace smells,
Are now little more than empty shells.
Machinery, which once clanked and clattered,
Stands abandoned, broken and battered.

Cranes, once driven to earn a crust,
Now lay abandoned and full of rust.
People once worked here to pay their bills,
But now the place is standing still.

For trade, this place was an important hub;
It even had its own working men's club.
In its heyday, it saw many deliveries;
Now the silence leaves you shivery.

Along the quayside, big ships docked;
In and out, the dock workers clocked.
It was a hive of activity every day,
Until the workforce were sent away.

Trading ceased and the place closed down;
Now deserted, it is just waste ground.
The buildings are in a state of disrepair:
About them, people now no longer care.

To save their jobs, workers campaigned:
Their fight drove some almost insane.
They struggled to save their livelihoods,
But, in the end, it did them no good.

Many workers felt a real sense of shock,
When, for the last time, gates were locked.
They missed the work and their friends;
Their way of life came to an abrupt end.