The coal man

Tri-cki-tty-trot, tri-cki-tty-trot!
Eegho.... eegho!!
Shouts a black man with a swishing whip in hand
His face is pitch black,
His eyes egg-white

Eegho! He shouts again,
For a moment I thought I saw fire
But it’s only his lips and tongue
His overalls are black from soot
He is a black man in black

Behind him the cart is full
Bags and sacks packed with coal
Before him the mules grace the land
Sweat below their manes tells of their torment
Unwillingly they drag the man and his cargo
He is the merchant
I call him scarecrow...

Ironically the kids follow him around the shacks
Amalahle, amalahle, they lament!
He delivers bags in his depots
An outcast he is
For he lives outside shackville
He owns a mini ranch and stables
He is a hermit
The coalman in Him
Has made him a lone man.