Dinner Time Disco

I hated games when I was at school,
the cross county torture, swimming laps in the pool;
the advanced class practising deep sea diving,
me in the shallow end barely surviving.

Doing gym in your pants or lost and found shorts
freezing cold showers and changing room taunts,
counting the number of hairs on your chest,
comparing, contrasting, the most and the best.

Strangely I played for every school team
no time for homework or so it would seem
this match at that school then back the next week
no wonder I failed most of my C.S.E’s

But I tell a lie I was rubbish at Maths
and my English grade sank like me in the baths.

Girlfriends weren’t easy for me anyway
my second-hand jumper put me in my place.
I hated the rain and the dinner time disco
the rejection from girls was a painful fiasco
but some girls developed faster than others
and some you just fancied because of their brothers.

Skirts got shorter and bras became fuller
and then somehow school seemed a little less duller
make up and hairspray made them all more appealing
but I stayed at home; my blackheads squeezing.

© Copyright D. Archer October 2011

Type something here preferably in English

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