What hope did I have to grow up ‘girlie’
even though my long hair was curly
and Mummy tied it up in a bow?
For there were seven boys to show
that I was strong and brave as well.
I was a little savage and gave them hell.
“Geronimo!” I’d yell, leaping off the shed;
with my bow and arrows, I’d shoot them dead.
Those boys shot back but I was quicker.
Then I found their stash of illicit liquor
and guzzled a sip or three or five –
luckily, I threw up and stayed alive.
I had two brothers, five boys next door –
we all had bikes, though we were poor.
My Dad got the parts from the rubbish tip
and he fixed them up so we could all trip
away to the river or off to the park –
our childhood was an exciting lark.
My clothes were torn, I had scabby knees,
and poor old Mum I could never please.
She tried to make me wear feminine dresses,
Haha, fat chance, I just made messes –
climbing trees and stomping in mud,
I often went home trickling some blood.
Some years went by and I turned fourteen,
one of the sportiest girls you’d ever seen.
I developed a crush on Billy next door
and I thought I’d love him forevermore.
So to win his heart I dressed like a girl –
I brushed my hair with my head in a whirl.
But he had eyes for the girl up the street
who was pretty and blonde and always neat.
So I went back to my tomboy way
because my efforts did not pay.
It turned out easier not to give a damn –
any boy will have to take me as I am.
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| Writing Prompt |
Write a poem of any type and length about your life as a kid. Share that flashback. Make us laugh or cry. |
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My Life as a Kid
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