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Best Another Nail In The Coffin Poems | Poetry

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The Best Another Nail In The Coffin Poems

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The Barber

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by Robert (Bob) Moore © 2015

I used to get my haircut, at the local RSL
Gunther was the Barber, he knew my hair real well
for 20 years he cut it, short back and sides or trim
whenever my hair got too long, I went round to him

The RSL grew bigger, not the special place we knew
with a big hotel as part of it, dress regulations too
no more for the working man, with blue tee shirt and thongs
or even the old Digger, didn’t feel like he belonged

It was now a money maker, not the place it had been when
you’d always meet someone you knew, a place for working men
They still had darts and pool of course, if you wanted a game
but smoking banned, and count your beers, it just wasn’t the same

now Gunther’s place was not as busy, as once it would have been
they pushed his shop outside the doors, the entrance hardly seen
one day he said he’d had enough, it was time for him to go
another nail in the coffin, of the life I used to know

to find another Barber, now that was quite a chore
these places they all had “Hairdresser”, written on their door
the women all talked kids and shops, and clothes that they’d seen there
no sport, no racing, no latest tips, unless they were in your hair

never had a woman cut my hair, or a man with streaks in his
and the very first that did, I thought she took the pizz
when she said, I don’t have a cutthroat, so I can’t shave your neck
maybe your wife can do it, when you get home, like ‘eck

as if I’d let my loving wife, get that close to my throat
with a cutthroat razor, I’m not a silly goat
I don’t think she would let it slip, she still loves me, although,
it would be the last nail in the coffin, of the life I used to know.

Copyright © Bob Moore | Year Posted 2016

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Another Nail in the Coffin

Ostracized by society we have been relegated
To small corners and alleys, segregated
Not given the same rights and attention
As those that are dementing the nation
We don’t deserve to be victimized
If you don’t believe; look into our eyes
The same we frown, the same we grin
But for a habit we are kin within
We have been blamed for fouling the air
While hoards of steel carriages go by without care
We have been taxed and told that we must pay
For the sins that cost the rest so much, they say
But what of lost days due to hangover, and the marriages trashed 
Or the thousands injured or killed by a drink induced crash
This perverted nation that took prayer from our schools
Steals freedom of choice and allows the godless to rule
Keeps trying to find new places in which it’s nose to poke
None where it belongs and all should anger provoke
So be politically correct and let prejudice die
You all have your vices that no one denies
So leave us to smoke if that’s the choice that we make
If cancer we get, that the chance that we take
We mean no harm to man nor beast
But of all society we are loved the least
All we ask is to be treated with fairness, and spare us
Don’t pass us and pretend our lives have no merit  
Give us our freedom and we will once again be able
To solve the world’s problems out back, at the smokers table

Copyright © Joseph Soper | Year Posted 2018