My Dad is a broken man

He’s 86 years old;

His days are spent self-pitying

Pathetic to behold;

He lost my Mam 5 years ago

And she was solid gold.

My Dad he was an iron man

In body and in mind;

A father more belligerent

It would be hard to find;

The corporeal embodiment

“Tenacity” defined.

I well recall from days of youth

The fights embarked upon

The Council, then the School Boards

He happily took on;

No cross for him to hard to bear

No cause a Rubicon.

The sinews on his forearms

Danced like steel bands

He pushed a tyre once off its rim

(This memory still stands)

Not using my tyre levers

But with his own bare hands.

Now when I see this broken fool

And curse the silly sod

I need to see the better man –

His back straight as a rod,

The man who was to me for years

Virtually a God.