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Its many long years on, since it happened,

When I lost a dear friend in the mine,

His memory stays - through the long, lonely days,

And my mind still returns to the time.

He was only a little pit-pony,

Not much about him at all,

But I still feel so sad, for that little grey lad,

Who would never return to his stall.

An accident took him that morning,

A locker slipped out, that was it,

The tub ran away to persue him,

And crush him in that cursed pit.

It burst his lung and they shot him,

Without any care or remorse,

And I cried the tears of a  Miner,

Who had lost his little grey horse.

Many years on, it still haunts me,

It hurst still, like it was today,

For I broke the trust of a pony, 

And that memory will not go away.

I hope that he rests in green pastures,

Where grazing is endless and deep,

And I pray for a warm ray of sunshine,

Where he lays his head down to sleep.

In memory of Victor, a little grey pit-pony, who died in an 

underground accident at Cannock Wood Colliery in 1961

R.I.P Mate, so sorry.

Copyright Mick Westwood

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