"Sat at the Crem"

The other day I went to a funeral
A football mate's dear old dad
It made me rather wistful 
For something I never had.
Of course I had parents
But stability I missed
My old man was never 'normal'
Heavy gambling or always pissed.
So envious at the crematorium
A glimpse of ordinary family life
So different to the one I grew up in
That seemed so full of strife.
Trying not to compare
Self-pity to the fore
It's taken me almost half a century
To keep my demons at the door.
This shouldn't be about me
Or how I feel inside
I'd rather focus on my mate Shaun
Whose life fills me with pride.
He's respected at The Hamlet
And always knows tact and care
Even if after a few beers
He's not afraid to swear!
A diplomat, unlike me...
Who calls a spade a spade
Not something I'm likely to change soon
It's just how I was made.
Of the 'Old Skool Rabble'
He's the most statesman like
Even though he won't suffer fools gladly
Telling then to take a hike.
I never knew his old man
So excuse me being bold
But from what I heard about him
I'd say his boy was from the same mould.
Caring for his family
Not afraid of hard work
Always willing to lend a hand
Not being one to shirk.
Never being materialistic
Genuinely down to earth
The sort of bloke I wish I was
For whatever that's worth.
Just being a decent person
Sounds so simple but tough
Others suffer the fickle hand of fate
Simply coping but it's rough.
Not my mate Shaun
He really is an inspiration and a rock
I'm sure his old man was proud of him
For being a chip off the old block!

Dulwich Poet 7th September 2018

( I wrote this after going to the funeral of my mate's dad, someone who I never knew, but went to support my mate, and the rest of his family. )