|
|
Home
and Family
SCHOOL DAYS
Teenager, Never Again
Shall I come home? What do you think? Shall I wear my white
or pink?
I need a skirt, also some shoes, now, which color should I
choose?
On second thoughts, some boots might do, 'Cos then the snow
will not seep through.
But oh, those boots aren't really smart I need a dress, . .
. where shall I start?
I'll start a course, a new career — that seems to me a
great idea!
As teacher I'm not very good, I'd like to be, I know I
could.
I'll really slog, a month or two; you see my point, I'm sure
you do.
It sounds too good, perhaps I won't, Yes, I know you told me
'don't.'
Well at least for this weekend, I'll be home and just
pretend
That I am going to be just two and Mum will tell me what to
do.
No decisions now to make, nothing serious at stake,
Then afterwards when I go back, I can face impending sack.
I can face life with a smile, carry off my clothes in
style
I'll be 20, past my teens, no more 'ifs' and in betweens.
No more doubts and nameless fears, no more spots, incipient
tears.
I'll ooze confidence and calm, knowing people mean no
harm,
Teaching's really just begun — can be blessed with lots
of fun.
I'll enjoy my nice new life, make some guy a happy wife.
Puppy fat might melt away, and if by chance it's here to
stay,
I'll roll around and laugh it off, never mind if colleagues
scoff.
It's MY life I'm going to lead, and next time some clothes I
need,
I'll know at once and choose real quick, you will not
recognize your chick.
You see, I'm 20, twice times ten, a teenager, never again.
First Year At High School
When someone's in a bad mood, he takes it out on me
It's not for anything I've done, or nothing I can see
But "big fleas have little fleas upon their backs to bite
'em
And little fleas have lesser fleas, and so on ad
infinitum"
But why am I the smallest flea, I've searched in vain for
others
I'm lowest in the pecking line, an easy prey for mothers
Headmasters, colleagues, fathers, they all alight on me!
It isn't just a mania, they persecute this flea.
I think I'll have a breakdown, and go to bed and cry
Then all my persecutors will know the reason why
They'll send a card 'get well dear', they'll miss my teenage
face
They'll look for other fleas to bite, and feast on in my
place.
Then when I have recovered, and good moods are the rule
I'll leave my lachrymose abode and come back to THE
SCHOOL.
|
