He Is Just A Troubled Poor Fellow Poem by Francis Duggan

He is just a troubled poor fellow his life has been a continuous war
He fought in Vietnam in the late sixties from his home Suburb he travelled far
For to prove his manhood in battle where many of his comrades fell
He is one of the war forgotten his story someone ought to tell.

His war in Vietnam is long over but the war ghosts to his self destruction did lead
And the friends that he had in his good days forsook him in his hour of need
A homeless alcoholic in his late fifties brain damaged from alcoholic drink
He has lost his reason for living and through his problems he cannot think.

He begs money for to buy alcohol the hardest road of his life of him ahead
'Tis only for alcohol he lives perhaps he'd be better off dead
A hero in the heat of battle when he was in his glorious prime
Of getting his life back together he is quite close to out of time.

He saved the life of an injured comrade in Vietnam he carried him to safety on his back
The medal he won for his bravery he traded for beer a six pack
An ageing poverty stricken war damaged soldier his long unkempt hair is straggly and gray
With holes in his shoes and his clothes shabby and grimy and time on him ticking away.

As a young man in the late sixties he went off to war in Vietnam
But nothing for him seemed to go right this tragic poor war damaged man
His only comfort in life is his alcohol and alcohol can be a bad mate
For to be found dead on a park bench he is heading for that sort of a fate.