Gumbud's poems
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What killed him in the end?
He was raised a Northern lad at heart
An only child set him apart
Raised on working broth and spuds
The die was cast he took the goods
Had a sweet tooth that was sure
Smoked his fill of fags galore
The drink he left that well alone
But puddings, cakes just give him more
And so he ploughed his way through life
Had some kids from his sweet wife
Labored hard and labored long
And loved to sing his own sweet songs
But in the end the sum caught up
He woke and tingled ; had had too much
The arteries blocked had stopped his flow
He was lost no way to go
His wife lived on for many years
Fitter despite same northern wares
Hers was a different way to go
Slower, painful slow real slow
He had a son and daughter fair
Trained in all the latest wares
Of curing ills and taking stock
Of how the body slowly rots
They had the knowledge and the frills
But had re-directed all their skills
Lived away and nursed the strangers
Couldn’t re-direct to family manger
Would he have listened as bell tolled
Probably not he was feisty ; bold
But perhaps it would have been worth a try
To say ‘ we tried; the blind led blind’