Poetry Blog by Tom Chapman (War)
The Final Act
He seemed to be a worthless bloke—a village ne'er-do-well;
Unkempt and dirty, lived his life alone.
He scrounged around for food scraps, ate the stuff unfit to sell.
A misfit there from whereabouts unknown.
And someone called him Jack, although they didn't really know
His history or his background from the past,
And many were annoyed and they just wanted him ...
Friday 28th December 2012 10:24 am
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