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Just a Boy
Just a boy in ragged trousers
Kneeling in the street,
Engrossed in playing marbles,
No shoes upon his feet.
The shirt that he is wearing
is near worn out, but clean,
He has no coat to shield him
from the wind so keen.

Other kids just like him
Stand watching round about,
He doesn't even notice
until he hears a shout,
'There's that Billy No-Name
Who hasn't got a Pa,
His Mum she does the cleaning
for folks both near and far'.

He raises his eyes slowly,
his face serene and calm,
He sees the kids who taunt him
Dressed up snug and warm.
Then he stands up quickly
and says so loud and clear,
'You're wrong, indeed I have a Pa,
it's just that he's not here.'

'He went to be a soldier
in a foreign land
So that other folk could live
free from terror's hand.
He is the bravest person
anyone could know
And I'm proud to be his son
because he loves us so'.

He turned from his tormentors
with a smile so warm and sweet,
Just a Boy in ragged trousers
Playing marbles in the street.
Yet of all the others standing there
He outshone the rest
A little boy who loved his Pa
and proved he was the best!

By Elianna

© 2018 Elianna (All rights reserved)


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