Pete The Raggy
He goes around in tattered clothes and you often hear him swearingAnd he hawks his throat and spits on ground and he is beyond caring
What others say or think of him or if they feel offended
By behaviour of old homeless man unkempt and broken winded.
He seldom ever wash or shave his long hair gray and scraggy
And children to their mothers say there goes old 'Pete The Raggy'
But Pete doesn't pay heed to their scorn to himself he keeps talking
He don't look right, he don't look left he merely keeps on walking.
What would they even know of Pete to them he is a stranger
Before their dads were even born he fought in gap of danger
A hero back in World War 2 and for bravery decorated
And at the victory parade his name was celebrated.
He was raised in an orphanage abandoned by his mother
And he never knew his sibling 'tis said he had a brother
His childhood years unhappy years he received many caning
And he often wept in his bedroom his welts and bruises paining.
What would they even know of Pete he seems 'mad as a hatter'
His wife died fifteen years ago her love to him did matter
Their only child died in Vietnam in battle fierce and gory
He died a soldier under fire such price to pay for glory.
When his wife died he turned to drink to ease the pain of sorrow
And the future he doesn't think about he just lives for tomorrow
An ageing man of eighty four he doesn't look for pity
And there are many more like him all around this great city.
For one who sleeps rough and lives hard there's few if any fitter
And he knows about the hard life and life has made him bitter
And he goes around in tattered clothes and you often hear him swearing
And he hawks his throat and spits on ground for he is beyond caring.
Poetry by Francis Duggan
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Written on 2010-10-16 at 03:50
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