Francis Duggan Poems

It's lawyers, bankers, doctors and such the people that most matter
As their clients grow poorer by the day their bank accounts grow fatter
To every millionaire there is thousands from financial hardships suffer
The rich grow wealthier by the day whilst life for the poor grows tougher.
...

She is fifty so they tell me she looks thirty one or two
And when people tell her how young she looks she smiles coyly saying 'thank you'
Dyed blond hair and false eyelashes she is ageing without grace
Beyond mid life and without wrinkles she is known as 'Plastic face'.
...

It can be true that we make our own future though that is not always the case
For you can be one of those born at the wrong time and in the wrong place
You might be one born into poverty in a Land ravaged by war and drought
And right from the start of your existence you seem doomed to be down and out.
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I've never met a man I didn't like
That's what Will Rodgers used to say
But with what he said I don't agree
I see things in a different way.
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You feel that the World's against you and you are one without hope
And you only live from day to day you struggle for to cope
With the burden of debt on you and household bills to pay
And life for you an uphill battle why should it be this way? .
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When Paddy Casey left the Clara road forever
The feeling was widespread he would be back
For he could never be happy in heaven
If heaven did not have a greyhound track.
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The poet John Shirley was right about death 'tis the great equalizer
It brings the king down to the size of the so called failed provider
Money may keep the wealthy alive just for a few years longer
And though the power of money may be strong the power of death is stronger.
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All of the World's cultures this Southeern Land embrace
This vast and marvellous Country of the World's oldest Race
From Cape York to Tasmania from the northern tropics to the south
Through wooded hills and grasslands and deserts lain bare by drought.
...

George W Bush bit into a pretzel but as he swallowed he struggled for breath
And he hit the floor in a weakness the President was near to death
But after an hour he recovered a graze on his face from his fall
And years from now in his autobiography the incident he will recall.
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I love a walk in a quiet place away from man made noise
Away from smoky factories that foul and smog the skies
In the lush paddock by the wood where the voice of Nature ring
And where even on the coolest days the wild birds chirp and sing.
...