My grandad
He parts wise words
He tells a story
Of once in a lifetime
Migration to England
Fresh off the boat
Earning at fourteen
To lend a hand he was keen
A tale
That could only be his
Of travelling to Afghanistan
Him and his car in 1966
A young wife and 3 sons
Along came a daughter
When he needed one
Got them married his job was done
He is the vision of hope
For without that
You might as well be a dead man
Work hard and live honest
My grandad always says
Do your bit
And stand tall and proud
Keep your feet firm on the ground
And now he speaks
Of friends all gone
Wrapped up in a shroud
That day will come for us all son
You'll lose your sight
Hearing
Teeth and hair too
Remember this no matter what you do
Never do anything
Which one day you will rue
And if you don't learn from your mistakes
Don't weep and expect anyone to pity you