| Vultures |
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Late evening and the vicious
louts are lurking
Letting their superiority be known to all.
Safe in their numbers they beat and cheat boys
Of cates and dainties sent to them from home
A cigarette, a bar of chocolate, a photograph.
They stand about clacking their metalled boots
Sniffing with snotty noses, lumbering, sneering,
Saying things about a person's family
Doing their full best to goad lads to a fight.
Come dark and cocoa the big bully–boys
Corner the New Cock, grab his mug and drink
Laugh in his face and stroll away to get
Drop–kicked clean in the family jewels,
Ending up sprawling on the Latrine deck.
Screaming for mercy for fear of being hurt
Boot on the neck, noses like squashed tomatos.
After this hat–trick no–one came to toy
With the boy who would be a sea–farer
By way of playing scrum–half in Welsh Rugger. |
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