George Howard

Rookie (14.02.53 / Pontefract (Broken Bridge) , UK)

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Mates To The End

Jimmy sat on ‘his’ public bench, a smile on his face.
The sun shone down now, of the cold, no longer a trace.
The faces passed by, some taking him in, some full of scorn.
Many passing judgement, without knowing, a few torn,
Between pity and derision, none understanding, his torment and pain.
Jimmy looked around, an agitated look on his face, in strain.
Wherever was Malcolm? He was never this late.
Malcolm was his best friend, his bosom buddy, his mate.
They’d been together just yesterda

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