Morning Sea Cold
We see the sunrise on the horizon flow.
We feel the morning sea cold as there is where our bodies go.
To work, to provide, to survive, to fish.
It’s in our blood, our fathers fathers, our kids.
Our pride is a catch to feed the many of you. Our lives are the seas of nature’s deepest blue.
Promises made to allow us to earn our crust. Promises were lies and now our livelihoods are to them just dust.
Betrayed, dismayed, scraping to find our pride. Betrayed, dismayed please tell me how do we now survive?
Copyright © A Yorkshire Poet | Year Posted 2021
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