My Father

I found an old picture of my father

When he was about nineteen.

He had his arm around a woman

That I had never seen.

They were leaning against a porch

In the summer sunshine.

I knew it was my father.

He had a face just like mine.

I never got to know my father,

He died when I was three.

He left this world way to soon.

Leaving my mother, brother and me.

I was told he died a violent death

Just trying to break free.

Hit in the head by a hospital guard,

Out of his head with the D Ts.

That picture was of a happier time

Before he left for World War two.

At home with friends and family.

Not knowing the hell he'd go through.

When he came home he was different.

His wounds never really healed.

He drank for the pain, body and mind.

A lot was left in a muddy French field.

Oh I wish I had got to know my father.

Everyone says he was a very good man.

He tried to be a good husband and father.

Being a drunk was never his plan.

I found an old picture of my father

When he was about nineteen.

He had his arm around a woman

That I had never seen.