Francis Duggan Poems

To seek a better life in Australia should never be seen as a crime
But he is languishing in a detention centre like a prisoner
serving out his time
Yet he doesn't have a criminal record and he is a good living man
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You say you are proud of your Country of you what does this say
That you are Nationalistic it does seem this way
And from Nationalism wars often begin
Where even the winners never seem to win.
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He help the homeless children the children of the street
He give them clothes and shelter he give them food to eat
He try to shield them from police the police no mercy show
And the glue sniffing children of the streets at their hands suffer so.
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He always wears his war medals on his coat of them he feels so proud
And he has a hearing problem the reason he talks so loud
He says I'm a World war hero of which some don't wish to know
Of a battle fought in Europe more than six decades ago.
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Tired of his boring existence and tired of his ever nagging wife
And tired of his job and the workplace and generally tired of life
He wakes at 5 A M from monday to friday to go off to work for the day
Nothing in life for him easy he works hard for every pay.
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The quiet man from Kilcorney we recall
He loved the games of Hurling and Gaelic Football
A Patron of the Millstreet G A A
And a quiet achiever in his own quiet way.
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The beauty of Nature the joys of the Spring
In that scrubby place where the goldfinches sing
Their songs of November on the sapling trees
That sway to and fro in the freshening breeze
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It's a troubled World we live in the World of today
But love with peace and justice only decades away
In fifty years or less from now there won't be mistrust and hate
The war lords and the men of war will have passed their use by date.
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Of greed and corruption we are all too aware
It's happening in your suburb and the big World out there
Many in high places into corporate crime
And more honorable than them in jail serving time
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For the wealthy and famous and the stranger to fame
The journey through life it will end much the same
For everyone born there is a last day
The clock on our lives it keeps ticking away.
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