Relics of the Beeching Axe, <br />Reminding me of better days, <br />A brace of rusty railway tracks <br />Divide and go their separate ways. <br /> <br />The cutting walls rise, cool and steep, <br />Shutting out the waning light, <br />Sharing secrets that they keep <br />With no-one else but me tonight. <br /> <br />And halfway through and just ahead, <br />Crouching there, beside the line, <br />A long-forgotten railway shed <br />That sends a shiver down my spine. <br /> <br />I dare not stop - I dare not peep <br />Inside that dark, decrepit room. <br />Keep it hidden. Let it sleep. <br />And leave behind the wretched gloom.<br /><br />JJ Creber<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-cutting-a-short-cut/
