The Unfairness Of Angels
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 number 4
I shut the door, I closed my eyes
Holding memories in my final goodbyes
I was about 6yrs old when I came
34yr when I realised things were never the same
In my hand I hold a necklace that was my mothers
In the other a football that Is my brothers
In the end it was just me
As for the last time I turn the key
The Christmas's and the birthdays
Watching mum do the garden on Sundays
Coming downstairs from playing the computer
Wishing now I had seen the signs sooner
Dad was always just a blurred memory at weekends
But the house was always a house for friends
I remember the Lodgers that lived in the loft room
I look back on the memories; my minds like a camera zoom
I think of the many pets, Barty the jack Russell
With Bootsie the black lab, always in trouble
The gerbils, the hamsters the piranhas
The crazy and the much loved neighbours
The beautiful sunsets, over the allotment plots
The broken greenhouses caused by our catapult shots
The Sunday dinners around the curved wooden table
Always a joke, always a fable
Nanny and Granddad stayed with us for a while
Never a dull moment, always a smile
So much love filled the house
Getting caught drinking dads Famous Grouse
The parties, the drunken mess
I'll never forget this address
Sad memories too, are here
Ones that always bring a tear
The day dad never came back
That was a day of utter black
The day mum was ill
Doped up on every pill
I don't want to dwell on the bad
The happy times outweigh the sad
I'm lucky to have been brought up in such awe
In the great, great, family home, number 4.

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