As a Guard, I will be ignored,

When people are going ashore…

From the Industrial Ship

They’d rather not trip

Over a Guard that sits there bored.

They have things on their minds,

To do as part of their grinds…

Of daily life,

A husband or wife

Or kids to make them mind.

A last step out that door,

And this eight hours is no more…

To lessen delay

They’ve nothing to say

As the Guard with their eyes they implore.

But most are friendly enough,

Their attitude seems more than fluff…

An honest smile

And a two-minute mile,

Is really the best kind of stuff!


–Jonathan Caswell


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