Tuesday 24 September 2024

Best days of your life

 


Born into the low wage world.

Thatcher rage scratched

upon wretched history pages.

School milk was never nice.

Never a treat. Ice chattering teeth

slurped from this watery teat.

Thin like blood in those veins,

or soured in the suns heat,

before it was snatched away

by her acid reign.

 

Best days of your life...

Redbrick prison sentence for kids.

Can't spell or tell time. Can't tie laces,

but tied to these places, where they can barely

write their own names, yet were supposed to understand life.

No love, creativity punished, flair just a dwindled flame.

Walk in assembly line... Eyes down, till the bell sounds.

We will keep you off the streets, 

dinner ladies just serving time.

 

Lunchtime kicks to teeth.

Playtime for those rejoicing fists,

hunger games for us, faces begging not to be hit.

No respite, no place to hide.

Just take the punishments whilst the wardens walk on by.

Internally a different battle cry, A whole new set of fears,

but no answers to why the questions

always seemed to supply more tears.

Holes punched in stacked papers of time,

a world of circles, triangles and squares,

being hammered, prepared for the correct moulds.

I was a misshape, no holes did I fit,

was I a mistake? A freak? Alone I'd sit.

 

Naive beyond a doubt, but my mind leapt

I could read a room, sense the threat.

Could count ever face, every seat,

see where danger crept.

Would spy escapes before

I'd even fully opened the door.

I knew when to trust and when to run.

only it seemed my feet often asked

for the punishment to come.

I craved the attention of oblivion. 

 

It's hard to accept, when you’re so young

and your brain disconnects.

It's hard to recollect your thoughts

when they have been beaten out of you,

which was probably my goal in truth.

A series of mishaps, Fell into my

own minds traps, clever but mentally frail,

Nothing made sense. Was I Born to fail?

Memories, like handwriting, never joined up,

frustrated memoirs, trying to find the dots.

In this world of haves and have nots.

Collectively scattered, unambiguously abstract,

I did everything to distract from looking at me.

Which made them stare more.

I felt right, the world felt wrong.

perhaps I just never understood the words of the songs.

 




Thanks for reading
Follow this link for more.
https://linktr.ee/Wordsandfluff
 
You can find my New books
"Tales from the 44A" and "Stations
here
https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0DBKXPN13/
and here
https://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B0DFV8N7XH
 
Please buy a copy if you can
it would really help me
continue to do this.

Peace, Love & Poetry
Kyle

 

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