POEM: Mansfield was a town to be proud of
Each Saturday morning, mum and I would go into town,
We had to squeeze through the market stalls, There were dozens of them there. Would she be pleased at what she saw today, Or hold her head down in despair. Everywhere would be completely crowded, There were no empty stalls at all, Many of which were up at West Gate, And even at the side of the old Town Hall. We would often go up Leeming Street, Where every shop would be taken. Now many of them are just derelict and simply foresaken. Each one of the supermarkets were in the town, Which was much better by far, Especially for people like myself who don’t possess a car. Mansfield was a place to be proud of, It was prosperous in every way, But unfortunately that pride has disappeared, Because we have nought today.
Beck Crescent, Mansfield (NB, this is NOT the Mansfield Mayor, simply a correspondent of the same name)