Von Erik Meltzer
<ermel@modellbahnfrokler.de>
In long and silent rows they stand,
Uncared for, barely noticed.
Nevermore they'll roam the land
From mountains to the coasts.
The rust long nibbling at their works
No paint remotely shiny
More shattered glass and missing parts
With every month gone by.
Some try to save them, but there will not
Be success, they'll soon be gone:
Cut into metre chunks with torches
And sold to junkers by the tonne.
No second thoughts. An S10? Junk it!
An 03.10? Who gives a fuck?
A P8? No-one needs that clunker!
And e'en T3s were out of luck.
A quarter of a cent'ry later
I see the photos, read the tale
And think, "how people have been stupid!
Thank God we're in a better age!"
But are we? I can't help but wonder
Seeing 103s cut up
If pictures from that junk-yard yonder
In time shall send those tempers up;
If not, in 2028,
Some youngster's gonna ask me:
"Where were you when they threw away
Those mighty wondrous beasts?"
What shall I say? I think the best and
Only thing that can be said
Is, "enjoy what is still here at present!
We never knew just what we had."
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Zuletzt bearbeitet am 2. August 2004