The Third of October, Two Thousand and Thirteen.

The Third of October, Two Thousand and Thirteen.

Oh, let me not hear that black noise again,
The thunderous sound of the small digger,
So brutal it caught me under the skin,
The council have sold us down the river ~

The council have smashed the mural down;
With it the heritage of our city,
A work of art to the fight of welshmen,
That I grew to love in pity,

Pity that the way of things is always
For the common man to have suffered ~
For history is so replete with days,
On which innocents spilled blood for others.

So we will not forget the now silent
Legacy of those men born of violence.


http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-wales-south-east-wales-24386566?SThisFB