Dad And The Mine Poem by Phil Soar

My dad worked down a mine
And often came home black as soot
He suffered in his later life
And even lost a foot
He had one leg to stand on
Like Flamingo's often do
But covered in grime, he had no time
To wash or have a poo
He smelled of coal and lost his soul
But we all loved him dearly
We would toast his life in the middle of night
But we couldn't see him clearly
And when god put him in the ground
He would rot and decompose
And maybe he would turn into coal
But I guess that no-one knows