Making friends, age 5

Incey Wincey spider
Climbed up inside ‘er
He said with a grin and a dance.
With his too long legs
In his too short shorts
And noticing his sandals
I was pleased with the stubbornness
That led to my lace ups.
Looking at the drainpipe, I replied
“Darth Vader’s willy”
The thought of the dark lord
Standing in the staffroom
Finding a hole in the wall
To dangle out his manhood
Was sufficiently silly
For the kid with the loudest laugh;
He thought I was the funniest.
Given the crown
Of the classroom clown
It may have lost the shine
Over time
But it was never dislodged.

Feet

I don't like feet

I never have

I think it's neat

we wear socks

day and night

and shoes on top

is only right

keep them hidden

I think we should

cos they're not up

to any good

Acid

I don't need
Acid to see
The beauty of a tree
But I do
When I look at you

Grey

Boring staid stupid
Grey
The colour to hate
School socks and school jumpers
Old people's hair and old people's minds
A suit and a shirt
Wheelchairs and crutches
The sky that traps us inside on a Sunday

Little me
Would be ashamed
Of the amount I adore
The simplicity
Of a grey woollen sweater

fragile heart