Someday

The cold wind hit him like a sledgehammer

He pulled his jacket collar up tight

It didn’t help

The dreaded half mile walk didn’t help either

He heard the voice

Always be work down the mine son, always

That was the problem

He watched his father as a boy

Black as the coal he dug

Coughing up the dust

That would eventually kill him

He was lucky

Some died underground

Leaving widows and children

To a fund so inadequate

Death was twice over

He had hopes

Dreams of a life away

Dreams where darkness came at night

Only at night

Someday he thought

He would just leave

Never look back, never

The cage locked

Taking him a mile underground

To a life where they sang songs

Where communities lived and died

Generations stood for something good

Someday he thought

Someday.

Reviews

[Kathy Van Kurin]

'Someday'
Paul Bell,
This was poignant in it's signal to us to remember this kind of work was very real for many in the past. I have heard stories and seen documentaries concerning this living and working in the bowels of the earth. This poem was given a tender touch by bringing the emotion and hope for a better life in the future of the one miner. He takes on the probable and understandable feelings of many who shared in this hard and brittle employment. Good one!
Kathy

[Paul Bell]

Must be one of the toughest jobs out. Just a few mines left in Britain now.

[Kathy Van Kurin]

I had an uncle whom worked in a mine in Minnesota, USA.

[BBP]

This was an awesome story that sums up a lifestyle.

Death was twice over...Golden line. I really liked this and it really dug in the fact how the death can effect much more than the dead himself.

[M.K Style]

Just one word - Beautiful

[Paul Bell]

Thanks M.K.

[Marina]

I am not a coal miner, but I have friends whose parents work in the electrical station of the country (it runs on coal). They take generous wages to compensate them for "Coughing up the dust / That would eventually kill [them]".
Dunno just felt like mentioning it, because I never got the chance to say that it annoys me.
I am a dreamer though and the "someday he thought, someday" hit right into my heart.
Excellent poem, gave me the feels.

[Paul Bell]

I suppose every job has it's dangers, but you just think miners have more to contend with.
Saying that, i saw a painter fall off his ladder the other day.

[Marina]

hahaha
s**t I love life's ironies :')

[.]

The ballad of a coalminer......

A nicely executed tale. It doesn't matter what one's profession is, we are always looking and hoping for something better. Always trying to reach above our grasp.

Nicely written.

[Paul Bell]

Yes we always want something better.

[Valentine]

Sad write, my sister-in-laws dad died from black lung caught in the coal mines. Valentine

[Paul Bell]

Thanks Kathie

[Lyn Anderson]

We often hope for different, and our kids hope for different, but we end up in the same. Today, we often forget those who did the labour to get us where we are, and look down on mining and other things we see as dirty or distasteful. A gritty, empathetic poem.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

we often say, "someday" thinking we will make life altering decisions...career changes...

but in the end...we are often where we started...just dreaming.

what is that saying? "wherever you go in life, there you are."

this poem really made me feel sad....and yet i smiled at the dedication to family tradition and how it often overrides what the heart really wants to do.

[Paul Bell]

Yeah you're so right, unless the mine shuts down and you're forced change, you seldom do.

[B.J]

The stories of coal mining, are very poignant, to many. Lives that carried a sadness, yet there was joy in the hearts of many that worked in the mines. Coal mines in Australia are still being worked. You created a story of life that stood for something, hard work, yet there was hope. Well done.

[Paul Bell]

Thanks B.J. I think the environmentalists have made mining the scapegoat for the world's woes.

[B.J]

Your most welcome.