Eric Peter Hughes
With a gentle laugh he did enthuse
His sister, nephew, nieces, Mum
After all, he was brother, uncle, son.
He was half a biker, hippie, smoker
Disappearer, loner.
And half a carer, porter, nurse.
For years his dog came first.
What if Uncle Peter
Had not been bullied in teenage years?
Had had more encouraging peers?
What if his creative, artistic bent
Had been nurtured to fulfillment?
Talents left to grow wild
From this once talkative and contented child
It could have been so different.
Yet remember not that other half.
Remember instead the gentle laugh,
The calming manner, twinkling eye,
The way he spoke to you and I,
The loyal care he gave his Mum.
This uncle, brother, son.
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