The Unlikely Hero
Where he lives none does help you when you are down
The one out of work in the poor side of town
A young man in his early twenties with life struggling to cope
Though of finding employment he is not without hope.
Disadvantaged by the suburb he lives in and his postal address
Such things potential employers do fail to impress
But of searching for a job start he never does cease to try
Of courage in adversity none of him can deny.
One cannot say of him he does not do his best
And he showed his true courage when put to the test
He saved a baby girl's life in a house fire
In the unlikely hero so much to admire.
To save a grateful parents child life he put his own life on the line
Yet an offer of an award for bravery he did decline
Of saving a young life he did not make a big thing
And his praises he does not wish others to sing.
In the factory he worked in his job he enjoyed
'Til when the company went into receivership he became unemployed
But to the victim mentality he is not inclined
And he will keep searching 'til a job he will find.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Related quotes
Employment Goals Seek Attain Dreams
employment gives us options
employment creates opportunities
employment enhances meetings
employment demands responsibilities
employment provides relative incomes
employment pays plan budget bills
employment advocates option savings
employment allows stepping stones
employment wisdom attains rewards
employment goals seek attain dreams
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Their Great Lust For Life
In life for many every day there's some battle to fight
And many must go to bed hungry at night
That is those who do have a bed to sleep on
And any hope of success that they had from them gone.
Their life's greatest battle is just to survive
And their great lust for life only keeps them alive
A fair go in life to them has been denied
Those on the wrong side of the social divide.
Familiar to poverty and they know of despair
But their great lust for life keeps them hanging in there
Like poor struggling fish washed in by the tide
And if there is a god he is not on their side.
The poverty stricken the poor and downtrod
The Homeless and the Stateless of the lesser god
Yet despite their misfortunes to life they do cling
And their great lust for life is an amazing thing.
With their heavy life's crosses they struiggle to cope
And their great lust for life it was born out of hope
That lady luck on them one day soon will smile
And their every day struggles will have been worth-while.
poem by Francis Duggan
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The Happy Divorcee
Such a lovely person and so nice to know
By the smile on her face she has the inner glow
The windows of her soul are open to light
She is always so cheerful and bubbly and bright.
In her early fifties her brown hair flecked with gray
Perhaps physically she has known a far better day
To her horrible ex husband she was a good wife
And without him she lives a much happier life.
Her ex husband has re-married on her he used to cheat
And when drunk he was aggressive her he used to beat
He done his best for to lower her sense of self esteem
Life for her better without him much better 'twould seem
Their only daughter in her mid twenties is married in a town far away
Her young son will be three on his birthday in May
At Christmas her daughter and grandson she will see
And life is looking good for the happy divorcee.
poem by Francis Duggan
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They Struggle Through Life
They struggle through life as they battle with stress
Those born and raised at an unfashionable address
It is a long hike to success and renown
For those who are born at the poor side of town.
Their parents in jail for serious crime
And they become hardened criminals before their life's prime
Homeless in their early teens life hardened and street wise
The wounded eagle from the ground cannot rise.
They are the poor souls on whom drug dealers prey
And from Poverty Street it does seem a long way
To the road to success from the pit of despair
From the poor side of town success stories are rare.
Like their parents of success they stand little chance
They are the poor victims of bad circumstance
Their sense of self esteem is damaged beyond repair
And you cannot tell me that all in life is fair.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Trying To Find A Job
Trying to find a job at fifty-three
Too old to work, too young for social security
They all want someone in their early twenties
That will go to work for mere pennies
I've got a twenty-five year old mind
But most employers don't want that kind
Going for interviews and they don't call
They think someone twenty has it on the ball
So I sit here and write poems all day
When my house works done I can play
You can't make money writing words
I enjoy it so, but this is for the birds
There is only so much house to clean
Can't get a job, because I'm not a teen
I have a good life, don't want to complain
I guess at my age, you're not to supposed to have a brain
I think I'm going to have to retire
After all it's not me they are going to hire!
poem by Donna Nimmo
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A Strange Question Indeed
A young man under thirty his memory seemed gone
I thought for a moment he's having me on
When he asked me what year 'twas he did not even smile
Then methought he does not seek his amusement through guile.
I told him 06 yet it puzzles me so
That the year he is living in he does not know
Can people in their mid twenties suffer from the onset of alzheimers disease
That at such a young age his memory is starting to freeze?
But then I thought with him there could be something else wrong
Maybe last night he did overpuff on his bong
'Tis not good for the memory this stuff wizzy weed
Either way the young man of help did seem in need.
He had not been drinking as he walked a straight line
And health wise he is one who looks rather fine
And though to have a poor memory is never a sin
He seems too young not to know the year he is living in.
He looked in his mid twenties or a year or two more
And one I had never lain eyes on before
From one of his age a strange question indeed
The affects of alzheimers or too much wizzy weed.
poem by Francis Duggan
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On The Lonely Side Of Town
On the lonely side of town
When no one else is around
Her brown eyes cry those tears
Over her loves from the past years
Her heart is breaking without a sound
On the lonely side of town
She feels just like a clown
With tears pouring from her eyes
With no rhymn or reason why
But life has turned her upside down
On the lonely side of town
Her head is hanging down
Shaking from side to side
With not much left of her pride
There on that lonely side of town
On the lonely side of town
She is lost behind her frown
But in ways she may never know
Her love fine it's way to show
And by her love she is bound
On the lonely side of town
You can hear the old train sound
Reminding her of those days
When life glowed with brighter rays
Even on that lonely side of town
On the lonely side of town
She is loved by leaps and bounds
Even though she may not see
Love'S the only thing that's free
And it creaps up on her without a sound
poem by Norman Hale
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My Brothers Son
He wakes early to work so hard
Though today with his second son by his side
I want to work with you dad, and follow what
you do
These word's turn this cold windy day, warm and sunny
A new reason for him to work
A new reason to wake so early
To teach his son what he doe's, and why he work's so hard
With a smile, one of the reasons now stands by his side
poem by Sam Pendlebury
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Mitt Romney Has Confirmed What?
Mitt Romney has confirmed that which more than
47% of US voters have felt in their citizen hearts;
excessive profit exploitation of resources by 1%
the richest money grabbing carpetbaggers is wrong.
Mitt Romney condescendingly declared a poor
over exploited 47% dependent on the federal;
government for healthcare and housing are not
a presidential responsibility in corporate policy.
Mitt Romney has no ability to provide better lives
nationally as a goal massive profits by his ruthless;
supporters capitalism of super-corporations bankers
is adding salt to US unemployed bleeding wounds.
Mitt Romney supports government failing to provide
Americans employment due to recession production;
in factories exported overseas denying an American
recovery domestic employment in America healthy.
Mitt Romney illustrates how government by the rich
for the rich has lost the faith hearts and minds of;
poor Americans need creating employment for work
starved poor by building roads bridges both literally;
and figuratively would restore faith in key leadership
and US economy with a positive invasion of the mind;
sending jobs factories to foreign sweat shop workers
strips discarded victim job stripped of right to work!
poem by Terence George Craddock
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The Human Will Never Ceases To Surprise
'Tis hard to keep a good woman or man down
Even the one born on the poorest side of the town
Above the most dire poverty has been known to rise
The human will never ceases to surprise
You've heard about the female billionaire
By circumstance of birth she was not treated fair
A poor child of the poor side of the town
Like 'tis said 'tis hard to keep a good one down
Suppose it is in our life's destiny
That even from the depths of poverty
That one will rise and scale the heights of fame
And the once poor one becomes a celebrated name
Though to rise above poverty one does need
Great self belief as well as the will to succeed.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Just An Ordinary Fellow
His life revolves around work his mates and football
But his wife and children he seldom does talk of at all
Each evening after work he calls to the pub
Or else to the bar-room of the Football Club.
In his early to mid thirties he is well liked in the town
To have kicked five goals in the local Grand Final is his one claim to renown
And though his team did not win the flag he earned his local fame
With a best on ground display on a beaten side he made for himself a name.
His wife takes care of the children a boy of four and a girl of three
She is not well known in the town few as down to earth as she
So different from her husband she's never seen at the pub
And she is not a member of any local club.
He is a well liked character and in the town well known
And the local people say of him he is one of our own
Not a bad husband and father though better than him not hard to find
Just an ordinary fellow in his own way he is kind.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Without A Drumroll Or A Cheering Audience
I was still in my early twenties,
When I felt I had earned my doctorate's degree.
After I had graduated from elementary school,
I had already received my 'bachelor's'.
I was taught to be accountable,
For every responsible action I made.
I did not have a childhood.
I had chores and responsibilities.
And had been a latchkey child by the age of 5.
That was before the innocence of children,
Were identified to be protected and realized.
I was taught to value independence....first!
I was still in my early twenties,
When I felt I had earned my doctorate's degree.
Married, divorced and a military veteran...
I knew my life had excelled through a course,
To experience early such maturity.
And that wasn't a choice!
But more like a marriage of enforcement.
And my tolerance for those who are ignorant is low.
Extremely!
Especially when I've seen people pull themselves up,
Out of places few would dare to go.
Without a drumroll or a cheering audience to encourage.
With so many today wasting their minds and time,
Debating their entitlements while sitting on wide behinds...
Expecting a delivery of some kind they did not earn.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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A Young Woman Of Honour
By choice she is a vegetarian she does not eat fish or eat meat
Yet she looks quite happy and healthy though vegetables she only does eat
A beautiful and brave young woman for good causes she is prepared to fight
She believes that every air breathing life form to die of old age has the right
In every anti war parade she is marching and on human rights she does speak out
A moral and intelligent young woman she knows what she is on about
A dark haired brown eyed beauty in her mid twenties yet down to earth and free of conceit
An intelligent person to talk to and as nice as one could wish to meet
No doubt a young woman of honour, compassionate, honest and kind
I look upon her as a hero she is not scared to speak her mind
She is anti war and anti racism and opposed to all forms of cruelty
If everyone were only like her what a wonderful World it would be
She speaks out for what she believes in and good causes she only embrace
A credit to the town she lives in and a credit to the human race.
poem by Francis Duggan
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I Envy Them Their Love Of Home
Many left the old Town by the river to work and live in Cities far away
From where they went to school and spent their early years and first saw light of day
But some remained in the Homeplace and there worked for lower pay
And credit them for their love of home those who at home did stay.
They sowed their seed in their Hometown their children and grandchildren still live there
Whilst those with the lust of wander in their hearts went off to work and live elsewhere
To the old Town by the river they remain ever true
And credit them for their love of home since credit they are due.
The ancient river by the old Town ever towards the ocean flow
And to the Countryside it babbles though the Seasons come and go
And another generation of young people into young adults have grown
And the stay at home feel quite content with the only life they've known.
When I say I envy them their love of home 'tis not said with tongue in cheek
Compared to theirs my love of the Hometown to say the least seems weak
The wanderlust was in my heart and from the home shore I went to live far away
Though home is where the heart is you hear some people say.
poem by Francis Duggan
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To Enjoy Luxury Gambling Is Fun?
the rich girl and her mother
often go to the casino to play
to enjoy luxury gambling is fun
chance to unwind enjoy together
the rich girl often wonders
if there is a gazillionaire
she could marry to make
this her oh so hard life easier
the poor girl gets up early
to work hard in rice fields
before sun rise her work starts
to work under hot sun all day
the poor girl thinks of city
where life is so much easier
to work as a maid when older
in a cool house good food pay
poem by Terence George Craddock
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John From Fishguard
Sing old John a song of his Hometown of Fishguard in Wales by the sea
The Town he left when he was in his mid twenties in the Spring of nineteen sixty three
With his wife Jenny and their only child Garett who then only had just turned four
They went south to sunny Austrealia thousands of miles from their Homeshore.
His wife she is with the departed she passed on a few years ago
A victim of intestinal cancer her end it was painful and slow
He took care of her when she was bed bound a greater love he never knew
To each other they were devoted and to each other they remained true.
A gray haired man in his late sixties his better days he surely has seen
His son Garett who lives in New Zealand has a son of twenty and a daughter of nineteen
And though he lives on his own he seems happy at the local pub he is known to all
He enjoys his beer and the sing song and he loves to talk of football.
I once heard him ask the ballad singer sing a song of Fishguard for me
The old Town I left in my twenties in Wales by the Atlantic sea
The ballad singer did not know any Welsh song so he handed John his guitar
And John in his fine singing voice sung a song of Fishguard in distance from here very far.
The Welsh accent it is still with him and with him doubtless it will stay
Until the Grim Reaper will claim him the one we all must fall to one day
He enjoys a drink at the local pub where he is well liked and well known
And he never does seem dejected though he is one who lives on his own.
poem by Francis Duggan
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A Grieving Widow
From the cemetery in Cameron Street she's a short walk away
And often at her husband's grave for his soul she does pray
An old miner of the black coal two years ago he died
Soon she will go to join him to lay forever by his side.
Her husband in his mid seventies when the Reaper for him came
And without her one true soul mate life for her not the same
They migrated to Wonthaggi in their early twenties in nineteen fifty three
He was her childhood sweetheart back home in Italy.
The saddest time of her life has been the last two years
She still grieves for her husband for him she still shed tears
Even at the mention of his name the tears come to her eyes
The stonger the bond of love is the sadder the goodbyes
Her son and daughter in Wonthaggi to her they live quite near
And stories of her old Homeland her grand kids love to hear
She tells them of the happy times their grand dad and her did know
When they were young in Italy so many years ago.
At her husband's grave in Cameron Street she says a silent prayer
A woman in her mid seventies with a silvery head of hair
And tears are welling in her eyes at her memories of the past
But no one lives forever and nothing ever last.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Sweet Guinevere
Sweet guinevere youre off to the coal town tonight
And your young brother ernies up in pittsburgh pa
You know mother loves you, and dads in the mine
So dont go to the coal town, guinevere, if youre kind
She loves a young man and he lives in the town
He leaves the house early for he works underground
He makes a good wage for a coal miners son
And shes a bit pretty, just turned twenty-one
Sweet guinevere youre off to the coal town tonight
And your young brother ernies up in pittsburgh pa
You know mother loves you, and dads in the mine
So dont go to the coal town, guinevere, shut the blind
She knows her good mothers not feelin no pain
She remembers an explosion and the black falling rain
She paints her thin lips in her dewy-eyed way
Then she says to the daughter, dear daughter I pray
Sweet guinevere youre off to the coal town tonight
And your young brother ernies up in pittsburgh pa
You know mother loves you, and dads in the mine
So dont go to the coal town, guinevere, if youre kind
song performed by by Gordon Lightfoot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Zimbabwe Rose
She brought such colour to our town her and her flowery clothes
With her dark and wavy curling hair the dark Zimbabwe rose
Her smile lit up the dullest day the warmth in her hello
And she will make many new friends where ever she will go.
A young woman in her early twenties her beauty I recall
And I a male of average height beside her did seem small
Yet she was not conceited and she was free of guile
And how her white teeth glittered each time that she did smile.
The Autumn weather here for her too cold she missed the warm sunshine
And for her home in Africa Zimbabwe's rose did pine
She went back to her Homeland we miss her happy face
And the Town now without her seems much a duller place.
She missed her family and friends and her Homeland far away
And the weather far too cold for her so here she did not stay
She brought such colour to our Town her and her flowery clothes
And we who knew her miss her so the dark Zimbabwe Rose.
poem by Francis Duggan
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A Friend
A friend is alone now, very solemn in praise of himself,
Finding work and searching for help in strong conversation;
He is now alone again, forcing the help of others as well
By being absent, by being and doing all the employment of material.
A friend must interact for reasons and decisions must be made
Like a manager of life who improves life outwardly and inwardly,
It is better to cast away the souls of people and learn forever.
I am a friend, not enemy of yours, still I am not your victim,
However much you worry and tease me.
The friendship is certain as carrots can snap, as bravery is definite
When courage has been present, with hatred is the answer of the foe.
poem by Naveed Akram
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