Francis Duggan Forgotten Poems

In Council Flats live the forgotten people
At the slum end the poorer side of town
They live on welfare like their dads before them
And from where they live a long hike to renown.
...

Our kind has climbed the highest mountains and jumped out of planes in the sky
And walked upon outer space planets in places to where birds cannot fly
We even try to compete with Nature with the emphasis on the word try
But Nature wins out in the long run for we age and grow old and die.
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The forgotten hungry and homeless nowadays to be found everywhere
There are millions of them close to a billion in the bigger World out there
The refugees of drought stricken Lands and of warlords and the homeless of Poverty Street
Basic human rights of them are denied shelter from the weather and enough for to eat
...

Lloyd George invited them to come and fight for us and Ireland of British rule we will set free
And they young adventurous and brave though naive as can be
Thought the proposition of the British Prime Minister was quite a good idea
And to fight under the Union Jack they readily did agree
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For years he has lived on the brink of despair
And life to him it has not been at all fair
Homeless as a teenager and often financially down
One of the forgotten of the poor side of the town
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They are in the graves of the forgotten dead
And nothing is known of them written or said
No headstone to tell of who they were above where their remains lay
The forgotten dead in the World of today
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With a beautiful smile on her beautiful face
The town without her seems a much duller place
The young woman who makes a new friend every day
Spreads her gift of joy in a town far away
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When I am long gone and forgotten one hundred years from now or more
Will songbirds be heard in the Woodlands will gulls be heard by the Sea-shore?
Will wombats, roos, koalas and possums be heard calling, will elephants be heard trumpet, will lions and tigers be heard roar?
For Wildlife is under threat of extinction more so now than ever before,
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'Tis not of a wealthy person or an elite sport's person or a queen or a king
Or anyone seen as one of great importance i now wish to sing
No i will sing of the people who are burdened by care
Of the poor and the hungry in the big World out there.
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Recognized to be one of the finest singer songwriters of his genre in Europe over a two decade span
But in his Hometown in Millstreet in Duhallow the forgotten man
In Europe he is revered by music lovers in many a town
One of the few who has risen above local renown
...

Four years ago celebrated in poetry and song
The one who was seen as one who could not do wrong
But nowadays his praises the masses don't sing
Amazing the changes that a few years can bring.
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In monetary terms I must have been poor
But with April Spring came to Inchaleigh, Claraghatlea and Annagloor
The nesting birds sung on bush, hedgerow and tree
And Nature's wild beauty was lovely to see.
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With a beautiful smile on her beautiful face
The town without her seems a much duller place
The young woman who makes a new friend every day
Spreads her gift of joy in a town far away
...

When all memories of me have faded away
In Summer on a warm and sunny day
White butterflies will fly around the bushes and trees
And seemingly dance in the sky in the mild coastal breeze
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How come George Sims and George Crabbe are not more famous there is a naturalness about their rhyme
They are amongst the literary forgotten they were not even famous in their time
And could it be they wrote for the poor only and of the poor
not many wish to read
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Like a piece of driftwood by the tide left on the beach to rot
She walks the streets of the slum end the one who is forgot
By the bureaucrats of Government they see those in poverty
As the people of the dead end who create their own reality.
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The Spring was windy, wet and cold the Summer much the same
Poor Seanie he felt tired and old his wife Brid frail and lame
Four acres and three cows to their name their best cow she had died
Two of the many rural poor in a poor countryside.
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From the Townland I was raised in I may have travelled far
And I may have drunk my last guinness in Corkerys or the Bush bar
And I may never walk again where I often walked up and down
From the West End to the Town Square in Millstreet my Hometown.
...