I was waiting for a train at Hayes Railway Station in Kent

Having just purchased a book of George Orwell’s poetry from the bookstall

Up to then I did know that Orwell had written poetry

My attention had been drawn to an incident in Hayes Middlesex

When a flying bomb fell on a Gramophone Factory

A great number of people died on that tragic July day

And here I was in a town with an identical name

There might have been other towns called Hayes

But I was not aware of them and had never knowingly visited them

But I knew Hayes from my younger years

And had often passed the factory site when on a passing train

Many of the buildings were still standing

Some were derelict and some refurbished

I have not visited Hayes for over thirty years

It is now I am told multi cultural whatever that means

Hayes is no longer English

Although my memories are of it being English

I am sure that if I revisited the town

That I would feel uncomfortable and disappointed

History teaches us that if you want to understand the future

Then you must understand the past

This does not appear to be happening at present

Which in my view is rather sad

 

Outlaw