The Young Dying Migrant Poem by Francis Duggan

The Young Dying Migrant



He never may climb on the old hill again
Or hear the birds sing in the wind and the rain
As time is running out on him it does appear
But he is not unhappy death he does not fear
With a terminal illness and given three months to live
For to ease his pain the doctors morphine to him give
In his mid twenties near the end of his time span
He will breathe his last as a very young man
Without any children and without a wife
In a hospice he will spend the last weeks of his life
A young dying migrant his overseas family he did not tell
That of late he has been feeling very unwell
He has lived in this world for twenty five years
And death to him better than pain he has shed all of his tears.

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