LIFE WAS NOT ON THE CURRICULUM
Sometimes I wonder,What would I be.
If not for the rule,
Of under the thumb.
Early days I was
A chess player, a Pianist.
A trumpeter for music,
I had the ear.
Alas it didn't last,
For as I grew.
I left my music,
In the past.
Never allowed to
let the music in.
Never encouraged,
As though it was a sin.
Natural abilities,
Went out the window.
What was a child supposed to do,
When no-one believes in you.
Now I'm getting older,
Day by day.
I realise what I lost,
Along the way.
I would have loved to tickle the ivories,
Or to pump up the brass.
But not being to bright,
I was treated like a dumbass.
Not being able to read or write,
Set me miles apart. Dyslexia
and dysculcia where unknown,
I was treated as an idiot from the start.
Climbing was another thing,
I had no fears of falling.
I wished to learn many things,
Poetry wasn't on the curriculum.
Being hated and bullying was,
Or so it seemed to be.
There were a few children their,
That were trapped in school like me.
I learnt to read in comics and magazines,
Finding I could speed read from the start.
Spelling was a difficulty to overcome,
Spending most of my early life alone.
When my carol came along,
Having her at my side makes life worthwhile.
We could survive any stormy weather,
I love our time of being alone together.
Poetry by Alan J Ripley
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Written on 2024-10-18 at 15:20
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