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Poems By Poet Francis Duggan  9/22/2014 7:13:23 AM
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  Best Poems From
  FRANCIS DUGGAN
 
 
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  45.     

The Children Are The Future Of Humanity

The children are the future of Humanity so teach the children well
And as their teacher your knowledge of Life and Nature to them you ought to tell
And teach them to respect our Mother Earth the one who feeds us all
And in years from now to you they will be grateful when memories of you they will recall.

The children are the future of Humanity but for guidance on you they do depend
They need you as a mentor and they need you as a friend
Children are innocent and easily led astray good role models they do need
That you have been chosen as their mentor to you is a great honour indeed.

Children who do not have good role models in life are easily led astray
That they do not receive a fair go does seem so sad to say
Far too many young children become victims of abuse
For wronging children in any way there cannot be an excuse.

As the teacher of the children you've been chosen for to lead
And though of good mentors and teachers we seldom hear about or read
That you do your best as a teacher for you enough of success
To young people that you mentor you bring hope and happiness.
 
Francis Duggan
   
 

   
   
 

  46.     

Tiger Woods

He is many times over a multi millionaire
And arguably the World's greatest ever golf player
The golfer most young golfers would love to emulate
The legendary sports star and a golfing great
'Tis true Tiger Woods is the golfer to beat
In every golf tournament in which he compete
For many years now the World's number one
So many golf majors the great champ has won
The golfer who has proved himself in every test
That's why by so many he is rated as the best
Professional golfer in the World of today
By millions beyond the borders of the U S of A
The World's number one golfer for many years now
Though to the father of time he eventually must bow.
 
Francis Duggan
   
 

   
   
 

  47.     

Your Religion Is Your Religion

Your religion is your religion and with me that's okay
And disrespect to your chosen God I'd never pay
But of those of other religions and those without religion negative things you do say
You are so judgemental in your own rude way
To those who believe differently to you do you do act so rude
For one who claims to be religious you have a poor attitude,
The praises of your God you do like to sing
But you obviously lack in compassion and that's a sad thing
When you put it out there that not everyone is equal in your chosen Supreme Being's sight
You are portraying your God in a very poor light
And that's something your almighty one without can do
Your God I am sure cannot be pleased with you
For the disrespect to those who believe differently to you that you've shown
I have yet to hear you say to each their own.
 
Francis Duggan
   
 

   
   
 

  48.     

A Ballad Of Wasted Years

I have walked through tougher Harlem where few strangers dare to go
And I've been in London City in the rain and in the snow
And I've worked in inner Melbourne in the searing summer heat
And believe me if I tell you I have earned the bread I eat.

I have laboured in deep trenches with my life I've took a dare
And I've worked in cherry pickers ninety foot up in the air
And the hands of time keep turning and the years go quickly by
And the man who lives on welfare is still better off than I.

And who needs the tag of good worker it's no big deal anyway
He's a wiser and better off man who sits at home all day
And his conscience doesn't prick him isn't he the lucky one
And must I be one great idiot to go labouring in the sun.

I was low in social ladder and I still am way down low
And I feel my life's been wasted for my years have nought to show
Some may say he's a good worker that's of little use to me
All I need is lots of money I don't need your sympathy.

I felt happy for a brief while in a green Land miles away
In that beautiful green Country where I lived for many a day
I felt inwardly contented even though I was quite poor
Listening to the pipits piping in the meads of Annagloor.

Till the wanderlust possessed me I grew restless as the wind
Pity on all migrant workers, pity on all wandering kind
Went to live in foreign city worked with strong hard working men
But I've nought to show for labour I'm poor now as I was then.

In Ireland I cut down pine trees in the hills where bracken grow
And in Wales I picked potatoes many, many years ago
I have laboured for a living on myself I have been cruel
All the World laughs at an idiot all the World laughs at a fool.

I am getting old and weary and what hair I've left is gray
And I'm well beyond the fifty and I've seen a better day
And like the work weary work horse all the better years are gone
And I still work as a labourer and I still keep plodding on.

Please don't say he's a good worker such words I don't wish to hear
For I've nought to show for labour though I've worked for many a year
Words like 'good hard working fellow' does not do a thing for me
All I need is lots of money, I don't need your sympathy.
 
Francis Duggan
   
 
 
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Poems By Poet Francis Duggan