Tuesday, 10 March 2015

Boys don't cry by Grant Harbison

“Dad, dad,” I cried when I was a wee lad. ‘A big boy hit me and he’s really bad.”
My dad showed no sympathy and he was really mad.  He said, “Ye don’t back down. Let’s go and find his dad!”
“But, dad I’ll never beat him. He’s got too much might
“Ye’ll do what I say, boy. I’ll make sure that ye fight. 
So my dad went to his door and there was a huge uproar
“He said, “Get yer son out o’ the door.”
The man just laughed and said, “The fight’s already won. There’s no way yer boy can take on my son.”
The boy looked at me smug and conceited
Like he was so cocksure that he couldn’t be defeated
Our dads dragged us forth for us to do our thing
In something that looked like a boxing ring
I went berserk, I screamed loud
I did everything I could to make my dad proud
I battered that boy
I made him scream
His dad wasn’t happy
But I got ice cream
I loved my childhood in Glasgow city
There was warmth from the people
But life wasn’t always pretty

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