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The Black Death

Fire, fire in the hole!

Thirty more bite the dust

Their last breath of carbon and coal.

How many times must the women come?

Crying eyes searching for husbands and sons.

How many men have to die?

While the foreman stands shaking his head,

screaming Union! When he's a company spy.

Now there are bonuses, benefits, impressive high pay

But with pay-rolled safety inspectors, all we do is pray.

Fancy memorials and commemorative plaques

Won't bring those children's fathers back.

But to feed your family, you'll sign the contract.

Now there's no work and you've found a new job!

But it's too close to the mines,

So it's lay-off pay and more hard times.

After only a year you're working again

The food on the table is back!

The last sound you hear is the roof starting to crack.

Leaving your children to stare at pictures asking, "Momma was that him?"

Learn more about this author, Raine Coughlin.
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