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July 12, 2005 - A poem about Family

Five Years and Counting.

and onions
that’s all
he wants to eat.
Oh! This little boy
will be the death of me.
He rides his bike
without his helmet on,
and wails when I defy his will -
makes me feel that I am wrong,
when his trousers
are too loose and itch
his thrashing legs
that kick me in the jaw.
‘Lighten up’ I think when he
tightens up his noose on me,
this bedtime story heckler,
this seasoned pre-school shirk
up against a punch drunk fool
waiting to hear the bell.
And one of us will go to hell
but I’m sure it won’t be him.
It’s when he smiles you see -
he’s an angel, who hides
his wings.


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