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
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