Joseph Hilditch
O, Heart of a town
And stomach of a city
Where the rats scurry in hordes
And old mills conceal grime-stained machines
Remnants time of slums and misery
And a home built against all odds
O, Heart of a town
Where the mill-houses stand in firm solidarity
And scrubbed doorsteps shine out of perpetual
darkness
Where stylish apartments adorn crumbling ruins
Of the turrets of forgotten industry
O, Heart of a town
Painted over, left to rust and painted over
In a desperate bid to forget
The lives lost in its Dispensary