the unsung | Write Out Loud

the unsung | Write Out Loud

The Unsung

 The bus home stopped
at a fish factory, women entered 

they had been working overtime and the smell of their

 work was
overpowering  and I said nothing because
this

was way my mother was reeked when I was a child.

The women were noisy as to demonstrating they right to

 be here which they
had. Low paid and no proper place

to have a shower they had to carry the small of a labour

for a week. And I understand them well I was fifteen before

knowing how a shower worked. Yet they are the people

that keep our coastal town alive., but in the town’s square

there is a statue of the man who started, and not a word

about the women who made his dream come true,

 mother’s meagre
income sending him to college.