Death of his life of mental pain did set him free
The Melbourne street poet Shelton Lea
He did not live to be frail and old and gray
He lived his poems of him 'twould be fair to say
He lived life rough as rough as rough can be
And he mixed with millionaires and those in poverty
A true poet with a poet's insight
And one who could dance and drink and sing all night
One who was a credit to the Wordsmith Trade
Poets like he was are born and cannot be made
One of a painless death who was denied
In his late fifties of painful lung cancer he slowly died
Six years ago in the year of two thousand and five
Shelton breathed his last though his poems are very much alive.
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