THE MEMORY OF A ROOM

THE MEMORY OF A ROOM

A room full of memories -

Becoming a memory of a room -

Soon to become a memory

Of a memory of a room

Clock-watching the day away

The workers waiting for release

Machinery pounding endlessly

Until the hooter blows

I hate this place

I love this place

Loving to hate the wait

Until the hooter blows

Ceaselessly seeking trade

Metal grinds upon metal

Steel pounds against steel

Until the hooter blows

Marge and Doris serving tea

Trolley rattling unstable urnings

The bored room sips waiting

Until the hooter blows

Raucous laughter drifting

From the staff canteen

Cheese sandwiches again

Until the hooter blows

Imprisoned by grinding work

Imprisoned by needing to work

Find whatever release you can

Until the hooter blows

Selling your labour and toil

Selling your life by the hour

Selling your soul day by day

Until the hooter blows

They loved this place

This hated place

The years spent waiting

Until the hooter blows

For a chance to go home

For the means to have a home

For a roof to sleep under

After the hooter blows

A table full of food is waiting

Piping hot against the cold

There’s a family waiting

After the hooter blows

All those memories forgotten

All those lives once passed

All the purposeful pointless hours

Now that final hooter’s blown

A room full of memories

Becoming a memory of a room

Soon to become a memory

Of a memory of a room

MAWH, 250418