The Great Grampy

A story to tell, a tale to hear,
About a man that I hold near,
The 1st of may 1948,
Was the birth of a legend, it was quite great,
A man as great as Jay Gatsby,
And the anxiety he had to carry,
But his life is not known,
And this story to him is quite close to home.

His mum abandoned him and left him with his dad,
But she didn't understand what made him so sad,
The father that was in his life,
Was like a man who carried a knife,
For he would sit, sculling his drink,
And his life would slowly sink,
Although he was filled with pride,
Years later his dad sadly died.

Now back to the man who this poem is about,
That could never settle for any amount,
Born in Adelaide, lives in Charters,
The man went to war for starters,
The war in Vietnam, causing pain to his ear,
After this, there was only one thing he could hear.

The shellshock that stayed,
The voices delayed,
His best friend passed,
This all happened so fast,
“You can't go back, you can't live in the past”,
He tells me this cause he knows,
knows the torture, the pain and trauma,
The suffering, the terrors that haunt him,
The guns pointed at him,
The men he shot, the men he knew not.

I feel so proud when I talk about his life,
But it can get sad as I realise the strife,
With the thoughts he still has
And the memories that stay,
The ones that won’t part,
And some he holds close to heart,
He has four children 2 boys 2 girls
Perfectly balanced they were like his pearls,
His pride, his joy,
But what happened to the oldest boy,
The family slowly detached filled with stubbornness and hate,
But this wasn’t the important debate,

He now has ten grandchildren and loves most,
But of course, he doesn’t boast,
He tells me his war stories,
He tells me about his life,
Before the man I know now,
Before him and his wife,
I’m happy to sit and listen to him,
To hear about his battles that he didn’t win,
He’s not the most academically skilled,
But he can do anything else,
To me, that’s greater than gatsby,
I wouldn’t ask for anyone else.