Rough As Guts Poem by Francis Duggan

A rough and ready sort of a bloke Rough as Guts is his nickname
Drunk or sober he's in a good mood he always seems the same
Never in a striped suit collar and tie formal clothes he never wear
No airs and graces about him his type of man are are.

At the Local pub he is often there never smelling like a rose
He always comes in after work in his work boots and corduroy work clothes
We respect him for what he is a good down to earth bloke
To him laughter comes easily and he is good to tell a joke.

Tall and broad shouldered and in his late twenties with curly dark brown hair
Without a god or religion yet he seems free of care
His blond lover is in her early thirties their's is a casual affair
They do make love occasionally though little in common they seem to share.

He works for a company of drainers storm water and sewerage pipes he lay
And one can truly say of him he works hard for his pay
Rough around the edges he may seem but his heart's in the right place
And as carefree as a sunny Summer's day with a big smile on his face

When he backs a winner at the T A B to spend his winnings he is not shy
He goes to the counter of the bar and drinks for his mates he buy
But when the horse he bets on fails to run a place he only laugh and say
In his next race he will be at longer odds not good enough today.

His nickname it is Rough as Guts a happy man is he
After work in the Local pub he always seems carefree
A character in his own right and his type good to know
And he always greets you on the street with a big smile and hello.