I thought I would go daft when Joey died. <br />He was my first, and wise beyond his years. <br />For nigh a hundred nights I cried and cried, <br />Until my weary eyes burned up my tears. <br />Willie and Rosie tried to comfort me: <br />A woeful, weeping family were we. <br /> <br />I was a widow with no friends at all, <br />Ironing men's shirts to buy my kiddies grub; <br />And then one day a lawyer came to call, <br />Me with my arms deep in the washing-tub. <br />The gentleman who ran poor Joey down <br />Was willing to give us a thousand poun'. <br /> <br />What a godsend! It meant goodbye to care, <br />The fear of being dumped out on the street. <br />Rosie and Willie could have wool to wear, <br />And more than bread and margerine to eat . . . <br />To Joey's broken little legs we owe <br />Our rescue from a fate of want and woe. <br /> <br />How happily he hurried home to me, <br />Bringing a new-baked, crisp-brown loaf of bread. <br />The headlights of the car he did not see, <br />And when help came they thought that he was dead. <br />He stared with wonder from a face so wan . . . <br />A long, last look and he was gone,--was gone. <br /> <br />We've comfort now, and yet it hurts to know <br />We owe our joy to little, laughing Joe.<br /><br />Robert William Service<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/joey/
