Titanic Poem by Bob Gibson

Full ahead in the dead of night
Steaming in the moons half light
Boilers working at full capacity
Hissing steam with such tenacity

Down below in the engine room
Men shovel coal in the fires gloom
Sweat is pouring from their brows
Through the ocean Titanic ploughs

Every pound of steam is raised
To reach New York a trail is blazed
To be the fastest ship afloat
So men of rank can sit and gloat

But in the coldness of the night
An iceberg, comes into sight
From the crows nest, a piecing scream
An iceberg on the starboard beam

The second mate, with concern
Rings for engines, full astern
Hard a port the helm is wound
Then they hear that dreadful sound

Under the plimpsol line, on the starboard beam
Ice water poured in like a stream
The design of the bulkheads they could not seal
A gap was left between deck and keel

Twelve hundred passengers her on her list
Submerged engines steamed and hissed
To few lifeboats to save them all
Save our souls went out the call

She went forrard first to her watery grave,
Not many lives could they save
Steerage passengers they were last,
' Class' for them, their fate was cast

Lessons were learnt but at a cost
That being the lives of people lost
Titanic now lies in the mud
The sea again has called for blood