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Monday, 13 March 2017

Honourable

My friend, Steven Sumpter, new the score
And to others he did passionately implore
To knock on the door of the poor.

He lived a life of strife, with a few good comrades
Soldiering on along his way, and he was a sad dad,
As his daughter was often away, let astray to be had.

I used to see him with his dog, Marley, and he
Would exchange pleasantries about she and we,
And he would cough, gasp, a former shadow of he.

He suffered ill-health, and had an op, not forgot
By the ticking clock, as it caught up with him, he couldn't trot
As he wavered by the roadside, air stretching from his rot.

He is now heavenly bound, as he was found to be passed away,
A sad time indeed - so heed the need to feed this decay,
Into a better time to play on my mind, in kind to find him this way.

Copyright Andrew Stevenson  12/03/2017

This is an elegy about a dear mate of mine who has recently passed away.

Thank you. Love love, Andrew. Bye.

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