An ordinary bloke

I remember him fairly well,

an ordinary bloke

lived alone down our street,

one of the lads.

So ordinary, we hardly knew he was there,

never said much, a quiet one,

never did much …

he was just there …

one of the lads.

 *

Ambition? Some said he had none,

never showed much if he had;

sarcasm hit him when he tried,

crushed him when he succeeded …

saw the end of him did that …

stayed an ordinary bloke,

yes … one of the lads.

 *

He did have feelings … ordinaries do ...

let his emotions show,

laughed at permitting tears to fall

when some friend or animal died,

a quiet, ordinary, feeling bloke,

yes … one of the lads.

*

Not so ordinary when his country went to war,

ordinary blokes volunteered or were conscripted,

trained and sent to distant shore …

he’s there today … somewhere out there,

numbered under a military stone …

yes … a quiet, feeling, dead ordinary bloke,

one of the lads … ordinary no more.

 *

Dennis Crompton © 1995

(first published www.denniscrompton.wordpress.com 2013)