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I knew a man, so full of woe
he moaned his whole life long,
I’d never seen him fain a smile
or sing a happy song

“The world’s a place to tolerate,
a place to get along,
where nothings right and in my sight,
where everything is wrong”,

He lived his life in misery,
he found it such a fight,
he’d love to be a happy soul’
but things were never right.

Then one sad day in summer time
I received a ‘black-rimmed’ note
to ask me to a funeral,
poor man had cut his throat!

A lovely sunny day it was,
as we placed him in the ground,
we put some thistles by his stone
and scattered rocks around.

His headstone, there for all to see,
these words inscribed thereon:
Here lies a man - no wonder why,
he’s missed not now he’s gone.

Ivor G Davies

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