Slag Poems - Poems about Slag

...Dark Upon the Soul Deep upon the river dreary, thoughts within a mind so weary. Screaming cries to a tortured soul, miseries sorrow takes its toll. Upon the deepest darkest night, f......Read the rest...

... Written: December 12, 2023, For Shadow Hamilton Contest _______________________________________ People can only thrive on this wealth scale With undying faith, we admir......Read the rest...

...Dead End Street He is waiting in the dark In the smoky dark under the railway sidings. He is nervous in the black In the black of the black slag piles. He lights a cigarette and breathes out ......Read the rest...

...Hes ing homeless, you see him there don't ignore that starved groak glare, You can see that he's got an empty cup in his hand he looks hungry and you're now aware, He has no shirt on his back no s......Read the rest...

...It's not a crime to be alone. You barely survived the turbulence that mimicked a pair of pretty blue eyes. That turned into blanks of abuse. You thought he was "the one", until "it" finally cam......Read the rest...

...Blue collared dice are tossed into fire lake. Void of sevens and angels. Heaven never seemed so far away- Our collective innocents... stuck on a glue strip of daddy's latest bad trip. Hung fr......Read the rest...

...Going home across the Shard bridge spanning a rattle-snaked river that bites into the Irish sea cold-bloodedly pumping into Fleetwood's gaping fish-mouth. Here birthmarks are branded wit......Read the rest...

...Moving from the short century to the dead century, dead of passions and hopes, of nerve-wracking expectations for a future of fiery suns and of well-being, a palpable sign of progress. A sign of ......Read the rest...

...I'm blessed to have landed in mother's quilted arm. To romp in a sandbox with other blessed hearts. I'm blessed to have a gentle souled father. Who dusted off a cluster of first heartaches. Pulle......Read the rest...

...The ending A slag heap collapsed with the speed of a Mercedes with two batteries hurtling down a motorway in an industrial landscape, grey as a Vera’s lonely life amid crime and poverty. On ......Read the rest...

...It’s been a day, brother, it’s been a day. I’m ridiculous for lack of content, All my plot holes are on display. Am I doing OK? Am I having a day? I can’t get a call back. I sat on a thumb tack. ......Read the rest...

...It must have been made and rejected, in night’s grinding gears – a knobby irregularity, a leftover of smelt and dross. This is all there is a gobbet of oven clinker, but behind it I sense cr......Read the rest...

...He walked up Mill Street past the Foundry, That citadel across from Nailers Row. With eight kids and their mother as dependents, He earned the pay that brought the bacon home. An immigrant, he ......Read the rest...

...Honesty is pure and very rare, but you can still find it within a child's painting. Filled with maniacally smiling potato people. Hovering over flat houses. Giant rabbits hopping atop God green ......Read the rest...

...When did I become the whipping post, for your weaknesses and shortcomings. You've plucked a few of my low moments. Into an eternal mantra of all your defeats. I Never said I perfected the art o......Read the rest...