In School

A smell of fresh ink

and I instantly think

of warm days in school:

Those dim leaden skies,

that buzz of small flies;

I hear children’s yells in school.

A harsh bell rings out,

an eager loud shout

and dinner ends in school.

“Now turn to page Four.”

- But Euclid I abhor!

But this is life, in school.

A quick glance to my right

- Yes, she’s still there all right.

But she sees me not, in school.

If I had that new bike

perhaps me she’d like:

But I’m just weak weed, in school.

It’s biology now

and our determined vow

is not to snigger in school.

But with “womb”and “sperm”

It’s not like “The Worm”!

(And some girls still blush in school.)

And then the bell rings

and my tired hand sings:

No more writing in school!

And then out we pour;

A big crush at the door

and we swear – which we don’t do in school.

And as on the loud bus we go

we slander teachers we know

and swop our adventures in school:

“We had fun with those cows

I had my hand down her blouse!”

Yes, there’s lots of excitement in school.

But now there’s homework for me

Instead of TV

For I must hand it over in school.

Then it’s out we go;

Follow females we know

and forget all our troubles in school.

But it all slips away

with a new-minted day

and it’s back to the textbooks in school.

Cornflakes and a fuss;

Chase after the bus

and then dodge all those prefects in school.

Yes, it all sweeps back like a wave

as I wander on to my grave.

The tumult, the joy in school.

And as I work amidst grime

I remember the time

when the world was clean – in school