A Poem about an industry ending
The industry I love is slowly dying,
my dream since boyhood is wasting away,
a rusted out hulk seen its share of better days.
Still an honor to be there in its dying days,
working to preserve the shell thats left,
the burning embers, which we might save yet.
An industry with not quite one foot in the grave,
times change and technology moves us forward,
nothing can keep up with the slow march of time.
To think that we saw the glory days,
the champagne and starlight,
the money and fame.
Gives something to hold onto,
stories to tell to a younger generation,
of an industries fame,
where the fires burned brightly,
then cooled to a simmer.
Not so long ago we all thought,
we were onto a winner,
for years the predictions had been of the end,
but the old girl kept going,
another road, another bend,
till instead of the tunnel,
there’s just a wall at the end.