The Lad


Final verses of 'The Lad' by W F Marshal:

But A'm lonesome now for he went away,
An me sight is getting dim;
But I didn't ask tae hold him back
When they needed men like him.

He's sleepin now where the poppies grow,
In a coat that the bullets tore,
An what use is a wheen o medals tae me
When me own wee lad's no more?