A shoe box that my grandma had
held photos from her day
she softly spoke about them
before the memories would fade away
when the howling winter winds blew
she'd share stories about her life
the snow coming through the wall cracks
and how the cold cut like a knife
stories of the empty coal trains
and battles that were never won
black gold would never last forever
and there was no where left to run
the coal ran dry and the miners died
black lung, filled the air
starving children in the streets
and no one seemed to care
dirty faces, ragged old clothes
buildings left to rot
empty pockets and broken dreams
in the towns that time forgot
rusted metal and run down shacks
stripped land and empty pits
many left in search of work
most took what they could get
stories of the empty coal trains
and battles that were never won
black gold would never last forever
and there was no where left to run
coal ran dry and the miners died
black lung, filled the air
starving children in the streets
and no one seemed to care
Grandma cried about the memories
It troubled her heart alot
Facing hardship was a daily task
In the towns that time forgot
The times were tough, life was hard
Many battles were being fought
The depression took a heavy toll
In the towns that time forgot