Way of Life

Way of Life

The years have now gone, way into the past,
Where hustle and bustle, seemed to just last,
Foreign ships arriving and leaving throughout the day,
Workers waiting to be picked, to earn a days pay.

Times were hard at the warehouses and berths,
Many a day has gone by when Dockers have cursed,
Working all hours to just earn a crust,
But they know the works there, so they must.

Down in the holds, cargoes were stacked just right,
Men sweated to pack, way into the night,
It was heartache, backache, but they still carried on,
Loading must finish; the ship is waiting to be gone.

Cranes swung into action be it day or night,
Hoping that the freight unloaded, is perfectly right,
Cargoes are now for dispatch far and wide,
The ship is now ready to sail on the tide.

The weekend arrived and now the workers can rest,
Down to the pub, with their wives dressed at their best,
Sunday morning take a stroll with kids to the park,
Watching them play games and having a laugh.

Monday is here and they stand at the dock gates,
Waiting again, hoping to be picked just like their mates,
But lady luck has now turned the other way,
No more work for some; just come back another day.

Times have changed; those days no longer exist,
Now people say, those days will not be missed.

Roy Coppin