Daddy-long-legs

They called him

Daddy-Long-Legs

A long time ago

Just skin and bones

Where flesh should grow

A long time ago

A diet of bread and dripping

Or fatty breast of lamb

The kids of Britain lived on this

Throughout this war torn land

Clothing came from scarecrows

So the story goes.

His shoes were full of gapping holes

And cardboard kept them dry

But not the cold from winters snow

When ice did melt inside

They called him Daddy-Long-Legs

His limbs were built to run

Away from bombs and poison gas

His nightmares and the Hun

Skinny little matchstick boy

His ribs were plain to see.

I know this little skinny kid.

That little waif was me.

Peter (Bones) Wicks