For as the final train appeared <br />And stopped beside the platform bare, <br />The last to journey disembarked <br />Then carried on their way, <br />Some stayed behind to watch it leave <br />With heavy heart and saddened tear, <br />They saw the guard with flag in hand <br />And looked on with dismay. <br />For as he closed each carriage door <br />Those days were gone for evermore. <br /> <br />The Beeching axe of sixty five <br />That tore the heart out of this place, <br />And left a void no soul coul fill <br />The cruellest cut of all, <br />For when they closed the station down <br />Then cleared the sit where it had stood, <br />A way of life was sadly gone <br />That few can now recall. <br />Those olden days of coal and steam <br />Alas they're now a fading dream. <br /> <br />Twas built in eighteen seventy nine <br />A building of such grace and charm, <br />That I remember all too well <br />When I was but a child, <br />I saw its windows boarded up <br />And then the slates fall from its roof, <br />And watched it when reduced to dust <br />Our village thus defiled. <br />Across the line a cold wind blows <br />For here now lies a thousand woes.<br /><br />ANDREW BLAKEMORE<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/for-as-the-final-train-appeared/
