Your Poetry Dot Com - The Good Bloke

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The bloke was a pauper, dirty and dire,
Living in rags, covered with mire,
Hands rough and calloused, nails dirty and torn,
This man must have worked since the day he was born,

Nothing was too much trouble, for this good bloke you see,
For he would help anyone, in their time of need,
Every morning at dawn, he would travel to and fro,
Helping out the villagers, wherever he did go,

For he was not a selfish man, this man he had a soul,
No payment would he accept , for all of his toll,
He did it all for kindness, he did right from the start,
For this man was a good bloke, because he had a heart.

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