Christian poetry
The Steel Mill

On the shores of Lake Michigan, where the lucid waters flow
The dunes glisten in the sun, until they are covered with snow
Where the trees and the grass, are a deep shade of green
And the sky meets the water, with clouds hovering serene
And the seagulls sing praises, to this beautiful scene

Sets a maze of odd buildings, that are really a sight
Some built low to the ground, and some of great height
Steel beams make up the ceilings, and concrete the floors
And you can walk for a mile, without seeing the outdoors

Giant mills ring the Lake, like a Ram's horn
There's more to Indiana, than just rows of corn
It takes many people, doing things right
To keep the stacks smoking, morning through night

Charge up those ovens, and push out that coke
Send in the ram, and give it a poke
Alarms and sirens, warn the good folk
While on the speakers, someone's telling a joke

Keep the belts running, the furnace has to be fed
Fill up the Sub Cars, until they turn red
Standby on the floor, it's time for a cast
The BOF wants iron, and they want it fast

Charge up the Vessels, and dump in the scrap
Insert the Lance, and get ready to tap
The Casters need steel, the molds are ready for pour
Can't make enough slabs, they always want more

The Hot Strip, Cold Strip, and the mills that run plate
Need the deliveries on time, can't afford to be late
Keep those flatbeds rolling, get them out of the gate
Don't need any cuts, in the incentive rate

"Hey the mill just went down, go find the trouble
Grab your tools man, and work another double"
Orange hats, yellow hats, white hats and more
Who cares about the color, get the steel out the door

The union and management, can work together with might
But when the contract comes 'round, they have a good fight
Let's get this thing settled, before there's a strike
Or our customers will tell us, "go take a hike"

Like working the day turns, the best shift of the three
Except too many foremen, keep staring at me
The three-to-elevens ain't bad, but they screw up your life
Don't get too much time, with the kids and the wife

Lord help me through these midnights, any way You see best
Looking forward to the weekend, and that much needed rest
Thursday morning's arrived, and I'm off through Monday
Thank You again Lord, I'll see You on Sunday

The shift is now over, the day's work is through
Some will head for their homes, and some for a brew
But wherever they go, and whatever they do
Lord keep them all safe, so they can return to this zoo

The weekend is gone, let's get back to the grind
You can work many jobs, but it's tough to find
A better group of people, in this world I feel
Than the ones who are working, to make American steel

by George Konig

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