ODD SOX Nothing had never been noticed when old John did disappear He'd been cussing and singing rebel songs When he got throwed out on his ear. No one there had missed him or his stinked of piss odour. He'd rarely broke horizons Laid flat back drunk upon the floor. No one looked for Johnny not knowing that he was lost No helicopters swirling No searched unnecessary cost Nothing was knowed about old John than he’d drunked his days away He'd ended cut and tore about But never did he ever pay. His #life be known were tragic When John had lost his way He'd rarely sobered from the drink Since Mags had passed away. John and her were lovers who fought along the way but there’d never be a question that John would ever stray. When her illness brought her home John roared ‘fuck’ alot He gathered up of all her bits but it added up to naught. On the day old John were found Some lads were skiting rocks When they happened on some worn old boots Stuffed rough with torn odd socks. He lay among the broken reeds drowned days before the date Mags had long now held his hand their path laid out by fate. No one came to see John off Not one had ever missed Old John be back with Mags only woman he’d ever kissed. #poem #love