THE SMACK BOY
I never know me dad , 'ardly know me mumMe dad , was lost on the '' Campanula ''
She could not be the mum we needed , there was seven of us
Being a mum , were to 'ard on 'er to cope
Mum was kind of young I suppose , to be a mum to us
So I was sent to The Smack Boys Home Ramsgate
Life was 'ard , you 'ardly believe just how 'ard it were on us kids
They trained us to work on the fishing boats , The Smacks
Some of me chums died at sea , washed up on the sands
Laid in paupers graves wrapped only in a burial muslin shroud
No coffin seven nameless in a paupers grave
A small concrete marker with a number , no names , even there name
Taken from 'em in death
A ropes end often applied to me ear , or on me back many times
I was sure 'appy I was an ugly kid , so only got a thrashing
Unlike the ''pretty boys'' , who got comfort from right ugly dirty old men
Those bastards had religen , so they considered was there right
They sent me on to Smacks to learn how to fish , it was bloody 'ard work
Dangerous too
Some times they fishermen gave a few coppers
Though the '' 'ome '' , took most , when I landed on the quay
The Smack Boy Home , was no more than slavery
Was I happy , when war came , then I was free!
Ken D Williams
The Dyslexic Wordsmith
Poetry by ken d williams
Read 555 times
Written on 2013-03-03 at 19:02
Save as a bookmark (requires login)
Write a comment (requires login)
Send as email (requires login)
Print text
countryfog |
shells |
josephus |