I should have wrote this poem many a yesterday.

I write it now because there’s things I need to say.

As I get older, the past is more important to me.

And I appreciate things now, back then I didn’t see.

 

This poem about ‘uncle’ Roy, an uncle just in name.

But he was like a dad to me, like a dad he became.

That meant so much, as my dad I never got to know.

Roy was a clever man, I watched his business grow,

 

He owned two Jags, one was green, the other grey.

He’d drive me home from school, when I went to OLA.

We lived in Lee Park then, I would be about 8 or 9.

Roy took me to Anfield in 68’ for the very first time.

 

He took me to his workplace and put me in an overall.

He stapled up the legs, as I was still young and small!

When we moved to L14, Roy took me to Dovey Baths.

I lived in a world of confusion, of heartache of laughs.

 

I feel sadness, is it wrong for these 2 men to compare?

I’ll always love my dad, but I have no memories to share.

So, thank you Roy, sorry these words are well overdue.

At times it felt like I had a dad, and that was down to you.

 

xx