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Nov 2017
Growing up in Liverpool in the late 50's we were surrounded by bomb sites it was where we played. But my granny and grandad seemed to have far more vivid memories of the first great war.
This was a true story she told often.....*


Poor Frank
Our poor Frank
A willing young lad from the 'pool
My granny’s little brother
The eye-light of his mother
Off to France where Kitchener led
The war to end all wars they said
Christmas indeed but Christmas in dread

Poor Frank
Poor willing Frank
Who knew life could be so cruel
My granny’s little brother
Tore the heart from his mother
Off to France to fight the war
Who knows what terrors his young eyes saw
Who even knows what that ****** war was for

Poor Frank
Our poor Frank
Yet he came home to walk up the path
“Frank’s home, Frank’s home!” my granny’s sister's screeched
And the girls all jostled and laughed - and ran to the door
But Frank, poor Frank, wasn't there
Poor Frank, he would never come home anymore.

My granny’s little brother
From the womb of his poor mother
To the blood rich fields lost in France.
Lest We Forget Golden Oldies Volume One
Steve
Written by
Steve  The Burgh
(The Burgh)   
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