The poem traces a man's life from childhood to old age |
The Fire Inside A fire in the belly fuelled all his success Kindled by family and friends Nothing too hard for this kid at his best His means just a way to the ends Footy came easy but cricket came hard A passion evolved in his eyes His home ground advantage, the grassy back yard The birth place of tackles and tries He was tested at school, with average success Not overly taken to learning Did what had to be done often under duress But still the kid had a yearning The fire a massive unquenchable blaze Gave the kid a mind of his own He left home a child unsure of his way Said goodbye to the safety of home Then the kid grew up or at least he got older The Army would make him a man Or so he believed in a place than was colder Than sunny days down at the Strand The kid showed some promise but not for the job The city put stars in his eyes The place where passage o’er the bridge cost a bob The Opera House, footy and flies He answered an add saying Saints players wanted At Twenty–One how could he miss? There with the likes of Jansen and Morris The kid said “I can do this” The fire in the belly now out of control The kid had the world at his feet But commitments to unit and work as a whole Came like a kick in the teeth Would he have made it in footy’s big time? He and that fire in his gut Possibilities he thought just sublime Or was he just not good enough? So off to park footy he couldn’t go wrong The fire still burned in his gut Then enter the wine, the women and song Enter square one of the rut Deadlines, relationships parties and such Was like a fine mist to the blaze His constant companion, the fire that he loved Looked smaller and somehow afraid At times he’d be angry and other times sad At just what his life could have been He knows he made choices, the ambitious lad But if only some things were foreseen Now the only things left are marriage and work And he loves his wife without doubt But the life that he leads requires the spark Of a flame that is very near out Now the kid’s an old man and his sight’s not the best His back not as strong as it was His memory fading, patchy at best He feels unfulfilled and he sobs His life nearly over yet so much undone A tear wells up in his eye The fire’s gone out and the embers are gone He feels himself starting to cry Looking back on his life of good times and bad And some that he’d rather forget He sees in his hand a ticket marked ‘paid’ To the rocking chair of regret |