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Just Another Day

C

Colin Richards

Guest
Just Another Day

Go play down your own end.
That were often the shout.
Cos we always played footie,
when allowed out.

“Sod off,” yelled the wife
with her hand on her chest
“Me old man’s on nights
and he needs bleedin rest.”

Bladder old leather ball
down cobbled horse road,
Laughin and runnin
no respect bein showed.

“Don’t play her neither.”
A mother retorted
“Away to the common
afore yer father gets started.”

Race the mean streets
and down to the park.
Coats piled as goalposts
till way after dark

Hungry and dirty
on the long walk home.
To thick bread and dripping
And the old ladies moan.

Then off to bed
four kids in one
Greatcoats for blankets,
but worn’t life fun
 
R

Robert Harrison

Guest
Colin

Good grief our kid, yer livin' me life all over again down Balsall Heath road
and Calthorp Park. My footy ball was a pigs bladder.
 

Rupert

master brummie
Wow best one here so far. Great. Goal posts..coats..drippin and just the form of the poem itself. Two thumbs up.
 
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