Six weeks


The school doors at last are shut and locked up

The alarm clock is quiet, we won’t get up

For a while – tho’ the dawn chorus is loud, in full swing

Nor will I be running wild, packing up the school things

into bags, bleary eyed, rumpled, unironed, dishevelled.

My sleep deprivation has a hope of being levelled.

I will mooch,

I will lounge,

I will drape in the sun.

i will put on my shades and watch the boys’ fun.

Yes, I once was a wage slave

I collected my shilling

but now I am something much nicer, more fulfilling

It’s hackneyed I know but it’s also quite thrilling –

i draw and I paint and I see my boys grow

I’m learning that I have to go with the flow

so illness while scary isn’t all endless doom

tho I will never enjoy cleaning up the bathroom

My life  isn’t over it’s just changed a lot

You can’t have it all

but you can have a shot.



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