I know an old tradesman who worked with sand and cement. <br />Now the story I am going to tell you turned out to be his lament. <br />His work was done to perfection built from row to row and he was <br />the very best bricky, the best you will ever know. when a job <br />was finished his tools had to be clean, because he was the boss <br />of a slap happy working team.They would put in the footings <br />then forget to build the wall and when they did it was <br />neither short or tall.They once built an house with an <br />extention on the side it was that badly built that no one could reside. <br />He had a young apprentice who soon became his hoddie, <br />he never let him lay the bricks because his work was always <br />shoddy.There were a couple of muckers who mixed <br />up the cement they were for ever subbing <br />so they never paid their rent.His labourers name was <br />Dodger who would work now and then, most of the time <br />was spent at The Bookies placing bets for other men. <br />He employed an incompetent plumber who always gave <br />him the pip, every job he went on he always left a drip. <br />He was a good Bricky I would say he was first class, but when it <br />came to team work they were just total 'Arse'<br /><br />sylvia spencer<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-bricklayers-lament/
