Northam Courier – 2 Dec 1910, page 6
UNLUCKY JIM
Thus he spoke, in tones lugubrious,
“Life is but an empty dream”
And its joys are just as fleeting,
As projections on a screen.
Nought remains but plenty trouble,
Disappointments, quite a heap,
Punted years on singles, doubles,
Nuff to make a feller weep.
Thus he spoke, in lamentation,
“Life is but an empty dream,”
And the things you seem so sure of
Vanish like warm ice cream.
Was persuaded he was needed
“Just the man for Parliament,”
Spent me cash in gas, unheeded,
Whilst another bloke got sent.
Then he spoke in tones reflective,
“Life was once a pleasant dream.”
Had a girl, she was a boshter,
Prettier far than any queen;
Then me blessed luck got caving,
I was blown up at the “Belle,”
Lost me eye, me nose, me savings,
Lost me boshter girl as well.
Thus he spoke in tones dejected,
“What is Life, but slippery dreams?
All me specs have turned out failures;
Class A.1. of “might have beens,”
Was amongst the rush at Bullfinch,
Pegged out acres twenty-four,
Dreamed of certain trips to Europe,
Dream trips all, there was no ore.
Then he spoke in tones more hopeful,
With a glad light in his eyes,
“Soon be dead and sailing thither
To me mansions in the skies.”
(O’er his face creeps doubting leaven),
‘Spose I reach the heavenly plane,
Find I’ve chucked a blooming seven,
And me dying’s been in vain’.
By R J E
Moya Sharp
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