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
A Boy in Darkness
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