Francis Duggan Poems

Along the quiet back streets pedalling up and down
Three boys on their bicycles in the old country town
The prime years of their lives a decade ahead
The future belong to the youth as has often been said
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They should not have a Nationality on them to all people they should belong
Those three wonderful gifts of humankind known as music and dancing and song
They do not belong to any one Nation at least that's how it does seem to me
Though many Nationalists hold such things precious and with my thinking would not agree.
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A war about God and a war about Land
The tragic loss of lives I do not understand
A just war in truth is a damnable lie
For in modern day conflicts many civilians do die
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His marriage is over but he has no tears
For the woman he was married to for just over two years
Though he miss his baby daughter when he comes home from work at night
In his marriage she was his one source of delight.
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That time catches up on us all is surely not a lie
He is too old to work and he is too young to die
On retirement pension and quite bored with life
He spends much of his time arguing with his wife
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Live every day as if it is your last day and one day you'll be right
As that is as sure as the day follows night
The poor they can laugh as well as dance and sing
And death is far greater than the queen or the king
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They plan the deaths of and murder people they do not even know
Which causes me for to wonder how this can be so
In their own sick minds they write their own laws
Is Humanity not considered in their political cause
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You feel sad and down life is not always fair
And of hope for the future you are in despair
In that you are not alone people like you everywhere
But when the going gets tough the tough hang in there
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I hear her in the wood across the way
The bird with yellow breast and cloak blue gray
She sings at dawn and in the evening late
And her song the local lyrebird imitate.
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When I hear you talk of losers you I do not wish to hear
For you do sound quite judgemental and to me it would appear
That you've got that small man's complex though you stand over two metres in your shoes
And you keep on talking more rubbish after every dropp of booze.
...