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Through Falling, Falling Snow
As from my frozen window pane
I looked upon that winter's day,
The snow was drifting deep and crisp
And skies were darkest grey,
I did not wish to leave the warmth
Of home but knew I had to go,
And walk towards those factory gates
Through falling, falling snow.
I headed down those empty streets
Within the early morning light,
So hard each step I had to take
Through all life's bitter spite,
I longed to be back home again
As freezing winds did cruelly blow,
But headed to those factory gates
Through falling, falling snow.
I wondered where it all went wrong
Those thoughts remained within my mind,
As I did languish in the drifts
My eyes were almost blind,
I could not see the way before
And yet the way I seemed to know,
That led unto those factory gates
Through falling, falling snow.
And so towards that bleak estate
Past houses that I knew so well,
I thought that I would rather starve
Than face that day of hell,
I fought against my apathy
But soon my tears began to flow,
As then I saw those factory gates
Through falling, falling snow.
poem
by
Andrew Blakemore
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