The shiny crown is sitting tarnished
here in the beaten King's County.
It lay in tatters, swallowed up
by the greed of the land.
The stores are boarded up.
They used to give our downtown character.
Now they hold the design
of the local spray paint artists.
Once new field equipment now rusted.
The shine faded from non-use
from the crops fighting back from harvesting.
At one time it was all boom,
not one thought of a bust.
As the man of the home
promises were made
before the move here many years ago
to the flourishing King's County.
At the peak, King's County was over three thousand,
up from a few hundred housed on a dirt road
that you could not see from a passing highway.
The growth of the soil and mines
gave growth to the community.
New and old families showing love.
Saturday nights were social time,
adults chatting while children laughed.
Stress free smiles all around.
King's County was the envy.
The sparkling stars were to always last.
New laws made the mines
too expensive to keep them open.
One by one families were moved
out of the company owned housing
leaving weather to have its way
to the wearing structures.
Ghost community with eerie silence.
Cars with shocked families
started to leave by the hundreds
taking monies or lack of
for the stores with them.
More and ore disappeared each day
just like the sun at sunset.
The shops closed up gradually,
dresses were going unsold.
Long faces full of worry,
did not want to feel Saturday night festive.
The community spirit was frayed.
Tempers amongst friends started to show
from the stress of not knowing.
The quiet, humming county
started opening the doors to theft
in the middle of the dark night.
Fingers pointing to every person
that had envelopes of debt.
The farmlands became overgrown
when the markets stated to shut doors
with no one else to buy the overflowing food.
The rotten smells filled the air.
Fields were strangling themselves,
thin animals had nowhere to be sent.
The golden egg was gone.
Homes became a falling grey,
front and backyards
were a junk graveyard.
Spirits buried in the broken machines.
Tears adding to the spreading rust.
Pride and growth used
to keep it all together
from top to bottom.
The glory years gone
with the history leaving
on the broken road of King's County.
November 4, 2019
© Andrew Scott - Just A Maritime Boy 2019