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Pithead Tragedy

Still the women wait in trembling hope
Near the pit head deep in the valley;
The earth's turbulence has long abated;
"Let him live, dear God", each prays silently.

Still they linger, knees bloodied from kneeling
Hopelessly on the old cobbled main street,
Eyes ugly red from constant weeping.
Not daring to acknowledge the worst.

Still lies the sad morning after the vigil,
For now there are no more survivors.
"Fuck this for a fucking waste of time,"
Yells Fat Irene as she waddles off to the pub.

Style / type: 
Free verse
Review Request (Intensity): 
I appreciate moderate constructive criticism
Review Request (Direction): 
How was my language use?
How does this theme appeal to you?
How was the beginning/ending of the poem?
Editing stage: 

Comments

mining tragedies are exactly that: tragic. "Fat Irene," an exasperated gal, might have had a point when she headed for the pub. That may have been her way of dealing with the tragedy. Good poem! Jerry

a loved one for dying and leaving a person alone, is not uncommon. I think you have expressed the disappointment and rage just right. Surprising, yes, but a good ending. I'll bet there were tears in her eyes, that she let no one see! No crits, just a damn good poem! ~Geezer.
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