His name is Godfrey Fletcher Eleven years old Worked these pits for nearly three years Does not know the alphabet Cannot read in the least"
The pit shall keep him body and soul But better that than going to school Or ploughing the field Hot as any fire and brimstone Methodist's sermon down here In the awesome stillness Of the deep black
A Boy in Darkness
The seam they work is more than a yard The headway here is nearly four feet He hears the eerie sound of the whistling wind Deep down here in the dry and the heat
A Boy in Darkness
The March of Progress, Enlightenment and the Passing of Time
Present Times
Once upon a time A secret shared Threatened not to breathe a word To a living soul Especially mother...
He was just a boy But even though It wasn't the way it's supposed to go Needed a father Not this hunter
To speak of the unspeakable Takes guts and nerve It's going to disturb He can't bring himself to say the words
Misplaced blind faith In church and state Tied up in too much red tape If help comes, pray not too late
We face ourselves Look long and hard Make the difference A safer place But most of all Don't be afraid To shine Light Into the dark
