|
AULD WHEELBARRA
William Willis
Discarded fae the
workplace, rusted red distorted frame.
Mangled handles reachin' oot like a wee discarded bairn.
Were ye pushed aroon' a factory, heavin' loads or liftin' grain.
Auld wheelbarra, a ponder fae whit walk o' life ye came.
Auld wheelbarra, a ponder fae whit walk o' life ye came.
Wer' ye wheeled aroon' all day in the snaw an' wind an' rain.
Yer tyre treed is bare noo an' has seen far better days.
You've been a mate tae many wi' the heevy loads you've raised.
Yer bolts an' axles aches an' pains, a burden o' yer past.
Manufactured in the 60s an' fur sure wir built tae last.
After all yer toil an' efforts, the flickers gone noo fae yer flame.
Auld wheelbarra, a ponder fae wit walk o' life ye came.
Auld wheelbarra, a ponder fae whit walk o' life ye came.
Did you carry sand or rubble, did ye muck oot on the fairm?
Yer buckets lying twisted like a face that's had a batterin'.
As the rain hits aff yer rusty hinge, i hear a pitter-patterin'.
Ye look
like you've been ther' fur yonks, as yon weeds make ye their home.
Wi' yer pal lyin' there beside ye , it's old flattened traffic cone.
Auld wheelbarra, a ponder fae whit walk o' life you came
Your future's no' too bright but WE ALL CAN SAY THE SAME !
'Cause oor country's in a rut right noo and it's all hands to the pumps.
The pension age has risen and we're all doon in the dumps.
Auld wheelbarra, I ponder...WILL I FIX UP YER AULD FRAME?
And work ye till you drop (AGAIN !) It's oor Governments main aim.
©William Willis |
|
