Digging his grave in a mine,
The worker dreamt of the coastline.
His jaded body wanted to see the ocean,
Waves hitting rocks, he missed that motion.
Alcohol and cigarettes was his life,
Never had the time to woo his wife.
Abandoned and isolated, he felt low,
His mind told him "it was time to go".
The poison in his hand, he drank it all,
Smirked widely as he witnessed his fall.
The poet studies History, Politics and Economics
at University College London.