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@Howarth2L A poem for #SocialPrescibingDay by Heather Henry Called Forged in Salford’: This dad I first met was a man of smoke
He sat cloaked in leather and hardly spoke
His childhood was stolen by him down the lane
His manhood was battered - a girl was to blame.
He sat cloaked in leather and hardly spoke
His childhood was stolen by him down the lane
His manhood was battered - a girl was to blame.
It took all his strength to get out of that house/
He walked by that caff several times like a mouse/
He slid round the door and he shook a warm hand/
His future changed course like a shifting of sand #SocialPrescibingDay
He walked by that caff several times like a mouse/
He slid round the door and he shook a warm hand/
His future changed course like a shifting of sand #SocialPrescibingDay
This man met his eye and he spoke like a mate
It wasn’t a service, it wasn’t too late
Dads helping each other because of the kids
Would he join with some others? Would that help his own kids?
#SocialPrescribingDay
It wasn’t a service, it wasn’t too late
Dads helping each other because of the kids
Would he join with some others? Would that help his own kids?
#SocialPrescribingDay
