The Barrack Room

 

Twenty two men each with his own space

was a complete microcosm of the human race

We came from north, south, east and west

and not one of us was considered the best

One guy loved the art of calligraphy

whilst another was devoted to hard pornography

Giles was forever reading the Times

whilst I tried to make my poems rhyme

There was no north and south divide

as no one could be bothered to take a side

We came in all shapes and sizes 

some had even been to the Assizes

One was shy, another was gay

and a Scotsman who loved Milk Tray

We had all been taught left from right

yet occasionally there was a fight

The language was rich in expletives

and everyone was known to carry contraceptives

Some were black, brown and white 

but no one took any notice of all that shite

Not one could afford any airs or graces

as we had all been issued with army braces

When dressed in uniform we all looked the same

no matter who we were or from where we came

From that Barrack Room austere and bare

I came to learn how to accept and share

We had simply come to be in one place

despite the diversity of our national race