J
Jerry
Guest
At last it's here folks, Jerry's latest offering. First I'd like to thank my fan's - all three of 'em for being so patient. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!
This poem is based on a true story, surnames have been withheld to protect the guilty
When we were kids, me and my brothers, we played on the Tip, Bordesley Green
We’d roam and we’d play, like so many others, the scruffiest kids ever seen
Roll down the hill in an empty oil drum, build a den, look for treasure and swag
Play games, ride our bikes, happy days chum, playing football, cricket and tag
One day, at the back of the scrap metal yard we discovered the rainbow’s end
A girder!, of iron, all shining and hard, “ weigh it in, get some ackers to spend “
Now I can’t really say, of that far away day, which side of the fencing we found it
But the scrap yard had many, and we dain’t have any, so what else could we do but impound it?
The plan was soon clear, we’d take it from here and tote it to Rag Allan’s yard
With big John at the front, Mick then me (the runt) we set off but the going was hard
For a small kid like me that girder was murder and soon I just had to let go
Then Mick did the same, then John, such a shame , that girder fell right on his toe
Me and Mick stood and frowned, watching John on the ground, yelling and screaming blue murder
The answer was clear, “John you just rest here, me and Mick’ll plod on with the girder”
“We’ll weigh in this tack and then we’ll be back to help you and split up the loot”
John started yelling “ me foot’s started swelling, I’m gonna have to take off me boot”
We listened no further, me and Mick grabbed the girder and set off towards Bordesley Green
Across the small tip, past the old snooker hall, a sorrier sight you’ve not seen
We pulled and we dragged it, caught it and snagged it the thought of money meant we didn’t complain
At last, Bordesley Green, in them days so serene then round into Garrison Lane
We both sweated gallons, but at last Raggy Allans, we put the tat down to be weighed
“Ten bob” said the man, and over we ran, to the office and queued to get paid
After that, stood outside, we had to decide how we should split half a quid
“that’s easy, no fuss, four bob each for us and the other two bob for our kid”
“Not fair” did you say? Well see it our way, me and Mick had just done all the work
We’d wrestled that girder till we could go no further, all John did was sit there and shirk
On the tip we found John, minus sock, minus boot, foot swelled up and ready to sob
“Cheer up our John, here’s your share of the loot, sorry it’s only two bob”
“Grab a hold of our arms and we’ll help you get home and we’ll tell dad a bike ran you over”
“Cos if he finds out the truth, he’ll start wielding that boot and the stuff we’ll be in won’t be clover”
As we all started out, from behind came a shout, I looked round to see my mate Sid
“You won’t make the road with that heavy load” said my mate, he was wrong ‘cos we did
“He ain’t heavy, he’s Our Kid”
This poem is based on a true story, surnames have been withheld to protect the guilty
When we were kids, me and my brothers, we played on the Tip, Bordesley Green
We’d roam and we’d play, like so many others, the scruffiest kids ever seen
Roll down the hill in an empty oil drum, build a den, look for treasure and swag
Play games, ride our bikes, happy days chum, playing football, cricket and tag
One day, at the back of the scrap metal yard we discovered the rainbow’s end
A girder!, of iron, all shining and hard, “ weigh it in, get some ackers to spend “
Now I can’t really say, of that far away day, which side of the fencing we found it
But the scrap yard had many, and we dain’t have any, so what else could we do but impound it?
The plan was soon clear, we’d take it from here and tote it to Rag Allan’s yard
With big John at the front, Mick then me (the runt) we set off but the going was hard
For a small kid like me that girder was murder and soon I just had to let go
Then Mick did the same, then John, such a shame , that girder fell right on his toe
Me and Mick stood and frowned, watching John on the ground, yelling and screaming blue murder
The answer was clear, “John you just rest here, me and Mick’ll plod on with the girder”
“We’ll weigh in this tack and then we’ll be back to help you and split up the loot”
John started yelling “ me foot’s started swelling, I’m gonna have to take off me boot”
We listened no further, me and Mick grabbed the girder and set off towards Bordesley Green
Across the small tip, past the old snooker hall, a sorrier sight you’ve not seen
We pulled and we dragged it, caught it and snagged it the thought of money meant we didn’t complain
At last, Bordesley Green, in them days so serene then round into Garrison Lane
We both sweated gallons, but at last Raggy Allans, we put the tat down to be weighed
“Ten bob” said the man, and over we ran, to the office and queued to get paid
After that, stood outside, we had to decide how we should split half a quid
“that’s easy, no fuss, four bob each for us and the other two bob for our kid”
“Not fair” did you say? Well see it our way, me and Mick had just done all the work
We’d wrestled that girder till we could go no further, all John did was sit there and shirk
On the tip we found John, minus sock, minus boot, foot swelled up and ready to sob
“Cheer up our John, here’s your share of the loot, sorry it’s only two bob”
“Grab a hold of our arms and we’ll help you get home and we’ll tell dad a bike ran you over”
“Cos if he finds out the truth, he’ll start wielding that boot and the stuff we’ll be in won’t be clover”
As we all started out, from behind came a shout, I looked round to see my mate Sid
“You won’t make the road with that heavy load” said my mate, he was wrong ‘cos we did
“He ain’t heavy, he’s Our Kid”
