The Poor Fellow Joe Poem by Francis Duggan

The Poor Fellow Joe



Stiff from digging drains and brain damaged from beer
His speech slightly slurred and his thinking not clear
One might say he does not have the best memory
And he looks far older than his age of sixty three.

He is not the man he was two decades ago
The hard life now tell on the poor fellow Joe
For working in hard jobs past his use by date
The father of time for us never does wait.

In his arthritic right knee he has lots of pain
But about that you never will hear him complain
With his mates at the pub his grog he enjoy
One might say of him he's a rare tough old boy.

He has never been married or fathered a child
And for more than forty years in hard jobs he toiled
But four years ago laying pipes he injured his knee
And the rest of his life he will live labour free.

Though life for poor joe has been a hard old slog
He enjoys a punt on the horses and drinking his grog
And one can say of him that he's a rare tough old boy
And his gift of life he will always enjoy.

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