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HeroWhen I talk of my father I talk with so much joy Using the words of a man For the visions of a boy My father was simple man A man who tilled this earth And yet in his own world A man of stature worth I know when I speak of him I so very easily can Become detached from The reality of the man In such a way are legends formed And maybe dragons slain Heroes built and formed until maybe Only a name remains To link a hero to with his world And at such a cost We gain a tale to tell And the man is lost I want to talk of my father The man who showed the boy A life of real values And simple honest joys Not a slayer of dragons Just a man who by his sweat Earned the food that we all So unthinkingly ate Dragon slayers come and go Are feted and are gone Whilst quietly in the background The simple man labours on Does not destroy Rather makes Gives rather Than takes My father was simple man A man who tilled this earth And in his own world A man of stature worth Vote for this poem
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