Ballad of a Ragged Idiot

                                                  
                                        As I walk the streets, I shuffle along
                                         Whistling a tune, singing a song
                              The hole in my trouser seat lets in the breeze
                         And my well darned socks are pulled up to my knees
                             The Sun shines down like gold coins on my face
                                And the wind blows my hair all over the place
                              Not that I have much, time has withered it away
                            So my bald patch shines brightly on a hot sunny day 
                          My battered old boots have seen many a day, in and out
                          With holes in the soles the water comes in and pours out 
                                      But I trundle around, without a care
                             Doing odd jobs to earn a bob here and there
                            I sleep soundly at night lying under the stars
                              No drinking for me, no nightclubs or bars
                 With the Moon as my light bulb my bedrooms always lit
                           So I mostly sleep soundly, only snoring a bit
                      In the morning it’s a scrounge round for something to eat
                           Then I find a nice park bench; sit my bum on a seat
                        Good Morning, good morning I say as people pass by
                      Returned occasionally by an offensive remark, that I just let lie
                   It’s a long way from the trenches in the fields of Verdun long ago
                         Where I fought years earlier with my comrades in tow
                 Amongst the bullets and the blood crawling low across fields
                              To fight a war in which neither side yields
                         The mortars drop constantly, the bullets whiz by
                           As my comrades drop regularly, sadly to die 
                        How long will this last we tend to ask each other
                        Will I ever return home to my wife and my mother

                                Sadly, many didn’t make it, back home at all
                      Lost their lives in the melee, their time ends where they fall
                           The Poppy Fields in France their last resting place
                  A symbol of their courage of the mountain they had to face
                               I was one of the lucky ones – I made it back
                   But the problem never ended, my outlook was black
                              Unable to fit in where I used to be in life
                              Failing to deal with the trouble and strife
           Because of what I had seen and been through, always on my mind
                         Now I just wander the road sleeping where I can find
           Somewhere suitable, anywhere I can leave my bad memories behind 
                          Just a mere resemblance of my long ago man
                      Now a shadow in the wilderness with a dull outdoor tan  
                     But the Poppies remind me of that time all those years past
                   Of the fallen friends and comrades that I lost in every bomb blast
                       The blood and the screams hard to erase from one’s mind
                                 All these years later, hard to leave behind
                      But in my raggedy arse trousers and shoes full of holes 
                                 I still have a life, how good know one knows
                          But with the Sun and the Moon the Wind and the Rain
                                I will walk with a smile and enjoy life again

Tags: happy, sad, inspirational, hope,