Have expectations. Never get bored. Get experience.
Some of the things 'they' told me to do
in my stone kicking, apple stealing, string keeping time,
I'd listen to them and believe 'they'd' done it all.
So I crowded my days, as determinedly unbored a boy as ever you met.
Followed Hazard and his bony greyhounds for miles to see them run down a hare in the dew wet, see-your-breath, fields - which they never.
Kissed Lorraine against the chestnut tree in the back field until we went blue - afraid to quit - and my tea sitting ready on the table.
Learned Latin, while Summer hedges frothed with life and rivers rippled with fish; algebra, when bonfires needed built; science, when only I needed to experiment.
Ran 'thank you' messages for neighbours to the bookie's. Saw old men expect Heaven from a two bob double and still laugh when hope and money evaporated.
Watched farmers with dull razorblades castrate baby pigs and pretend I wasn't near to vomiting.
Defended sisters except when their foes had bigger brothers; they'd call, and call, but I could not answer.
Said prayers. Gave pennies for black babies one Lenten week - white the next. Kept a copper now and then and felt guilty - 'til I'd spent it.
Couldn't understand, but wouldn't say, how Jesus could be born at Christmas, dead by Easter and miracled and parabled the time between.
Read everything with writing on; ,
garish paperbacks Mum said weren't really Dad's - he was minding them for a friend.
All that, and tried so hard never to be bored- and it worked,
most of the bloody time.
James Mills
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/just-a-boy/
