Francis Duggan Poems

This discussion of what personifies a real man has been going on for years
A real man in public is not embarrassed to shed tears
A real man does not give to his family a terrible life
On coming home from the pub beat his children and wife
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Why tell me about it i know all too well
That there are many sinners where saints and angels do dwell
Many of the thieves of the town go to church on Sunday
To the god of their choice for to kneel to and pray
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Old Jim one i see often though not every day
About him he has such a likeable way
An octogenarian he is eighty three
Though he looks ten years younger than that to me
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The sun it is hidden behind clouds of gray
And the pleasant aroma of grass mown for silage or hay
Comes wafting to me in the afternoon breeze
That rustles in the leaves of the deciduous trees
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Though losing most people never does choose
For some to win some have to lose
And though success the majority of people pursue
In life that there are more winners than losers seems true
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Though many of their Nationality brag
I have never waved a National flag
To patriotism i never lend my voice
On our beliefs we all have the choice
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Though my years of existence has not been free of inner strife
If i die tomorrow i will have had a good life
I have never known what it is like to be homeless and living in dire poverty
So many do live life far tougher than me
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For men more than three score years they do look rather well
Mick Kelleher and Mick Kissane i met them at the Mickey Bourke Hotel
Many miles from Mt Evelyn and San Remo in Koroit's Irish Town
On our four hours drinking session memory lane we went down
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Us humans are related to primates as like us colors they recognize
Between us and them there are more similarities than most realize
In the human as well as the animal World the struggle for survival goes on every day
Survival of the fittest as the wise one does say
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He shore sheep in Queensland, New South Wales, Victoria and South Australia the sheep shearing man
For close to fifty years of time quite a span
In Renmark in South Australia by the great Murray River his journey in life began
And all he has left now are the memories of his youthful elan
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