Mervyn Linford - Poet   


Market Labourer.

Why do they laugh at me, I do no wrong?
I always sweep the market till it's clean -
Run errands for their sandwiches and tea
And sing my songs to please and entertain them.
I am a man who always tries to please -
Perhaps my words belong on younger lips,
But can I help my lack of education?
I want to learn, yet cannot quite remember -
And yet I'm strong; I help them to unload
Their vans, set out the stalls with all they need,
And smile when they think it's fun to goad me.
I do not understand; my face is red,
My hands are fat, my fingers thick and round.
I am so tall I cannot help but stoop
Instead of walking proudly, like a soldier.
I am a fool, but even fools need love -
Why is the world made lonely by their laughter?