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