Two men were fighting in the street,
Trading blow for blow,
Why this fight was taking place,
No one seemed to know.
But a little boy was standing by,
With long and unkept hair,
When asked why he was crying,
He said "My daddy's fighting there"
"He's getting badly battered,
And getting thumped around,
Would some one separate them
Before he hits the ground."

A man stepped forward to intervene,
To try and stop the fight,
But the battlers couldn't be subdued,
They fought with all their might,
Legs and fists were flying,
With curses thrown in,
The sound of boots on concrete,
Made an awful din,
The one big fellow stepped across,
And pulled the pair apart,
"You'd better stop, you've fought enough,
You'll break the wee lads heart,"
But the wee boy wasn't listening,
As the tears ran down his cheek,
The big man lost his patience,
As his attention he tried to seek,
"What one is your daddy?"
The man began to shout,
The wee boy said "I don't know,
That's what they're fighting about."

By Albert Haslett from a book of his poems called " Enjoy the Crack"
N.I. 1928-2017 RIP