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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required Cried out in pain, needed to heal, Nothing from God did I feel. Demobbed from the army, In a terrible state, Dumped in civvy street, Where I had no mates. Heart as cold as bayonet steel, Me, Love God? Get real. I hated my life, wanted it to end, No one there on whom I could depend. Never did drugs, except to ease the pain, Got drunk, slept where I dropped, Woke in a daze until a pill I popped, The pills I took were heroin based, On a good day the pain was erased. Sometimes it just would not go away, One pill a day, the doctor would say, But it took four or more to make it stop. Then four more at night I would pop. Life in the "street" was hard for me, Most of my life I had an army family. Now alone, abandoned by my peers, Filled me with dread and nightly fears. Couldn't hold a job when the pain was bad, Waited for my giro, the only money I had. Had to go home like the prodigal son, Living there, I assure, was no fun. Cried into the night for pain relief, God still not there was my belief. Then out of the blue when at my wits end, My Fran turned up, I had a friend. She couldn't help me to get well, But she rescued me from my living hell. It took her years to bring me back, Even now sometimes I feel under attack. She gave me the hope that I'd been denied She nursed my penniless hulk when I cried. The surgeon worked his skill on me one day, Whatever he did made the pain go away It took many years for my heart to see, That God had always been there for me. He heard my cry when I was at my worst, That was the time when I felt I was cursed. He sent my Fran and the surgeon too, Using both of them He pulled me through. Nearly 50 years have now gone by, I'll always be His even after I die. © Dave Timperley 22/10/2019
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