Ten years it has been
since I walked out that door,
when I decided it was time
to be an engineer no more.
Times had changed at my works
the spirit gone to consultants,
we were becoming motivated
by strategies from incumbents.
Using our old muscles and minds
getting metal splinters cuts and grazes,
with oily rags, dirt and dust
getting work done like the blazes.
A rollicking from the foreman
if the job was incomplete,
keep the production ticking over
after hours standing on concrete.
My job, being a physical one
bending metal on the fly press,
forging metal in the fire
my temper heated, I confess.
Then I would hear the lunch bell
only half the day it felt slow,
as my final day approached
I just couldn't wait to go.
Yes! We would have some fun
with games of cards, darts, football,
plus the occasional social drink
until we heard the gaffers' call.
Out through the factory gates
I looked behind to reflect,
those thirty years of graft
I leave with some respect.
Now the tenth anniversary
since that time in May,
when I collected my belongings
with not so much to say.
That one final farewell visit
to that old nostalgic place,
I said cheerio for the last time
with the widest smile on my face.
*****
