I used to play trumpet for the salvation army
And the piano round an aunt's house.
A birthday present for my dad.
Something must have happened
to me along the way,
I was such an unhappy little lad.
My life started at a spastic school,
With other children just like me.
I think there was a stigma about the school,
Now I think they would call it special needs.
It wasn't long till I was plucked away from there,
Put into the big boy school my tuition wasn't right
from the start. Most teachers took it that I was dumb,
Although I don't remember, Their was one who had a heart.
Alas she was a temporary so my life didn't really start,
I seemed to be the punching bag the one they didn't like.
Black eyes and broken lips were the order of the day,
So I sat at the back of the class and hid myself away.
Academically no one understood so my life wasn't good,
Playing piano and trumpet wasn't on our curriculum.
Both long forgotten I loved to play if I had the chance,
So the golden rule in school was to keep outside of life.
Dyslexia and dysculcia when I was in school was
never understood, I always felt that I was broken:
But give a child like me the space to breathe,
Just imagine the things we could achieve;
If there had been someone out there that believed in me.
So nowadays even switching on my android phone,
There seems to be a catch.
It takes one long look at me and says.
" Sorry your face doesn't match ".
That comes as no surprise to me,
That's the story of my life.
Poetry by Alan J Ripley
Read 53 times
Written on 2024-09-14 at 10:40
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And the piano round an aunt's house.
THE STORY OF MY LIFE
Born twentieth of November,A birthday present for my dad.
Something must have happened
to me along the way,
I was such an unhappy little lad.
My life started at a spastic school,
With other children just like me.
I think there was a stigma about the school,
Now I think they would call it special needs.
It wasn't long till I was plucked away from there,
Put into the big boy school my tuition wasn't right
from the start. Most teachers took it that I was dumb,
Although I don't remember, Their was one who had a heart.
Alas she was a temporary so my life didn't really start,
I seemed to be the punching bag the one they didn't like.
Black eyes and broken lips were the order of the day,
So I sat at the back of the class and hid myself away.
Academically no one understood so my life wasn't good,
Playing piano and trumpet wasn't on our curriculum.
Both long forgotten I loved to play if I had the chance,
So the golden rule in school was to keep outside of life.
Dyslexia and dysculcia when I was in school was
never understood, I always felt that I was broken:
But give a child like me the space to breathe,
Just imagine the things we could achieve;
If there had been someone out there that believed in me.
So nowadays even switching on my android phone,
There seems to be a catch.
It takes one long look at me and says.
" Sorry your face doesn't match ".
That comes as no surprise to me,
That's the story of my life.
Poetry by Alan J Ripley
Read 53 times
Written on 2024-09-14 at 10:40
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text|
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