For my birthday this year I have written my life story in 28 lines, enjoy;

My father’s bone structure and my mother’s laugh

Social workers who held our family together longer than it should have been

The welfare system that we became a part of, because there was one

My smile I kept even though unknowingly numb

Rare letters from dad and mum that meant more because of that

School friends who just were

The foster family that took me in even though I made it eight

Neighbourhood friends who are friends still

Jobs I had when I hadn’t a clue

Times I spent at the best Discos in town

Girls who had crushes on me and I didn’t know 

Guys I had crushes on but couldn’t let it show, mostly

A French hooker who I didn’t pay for or he for me

Friends who persevered with me while I unwound, several times

England, where myself I found

Football and its sentimental moments of glory

Art, which at times I hold in awe 

Friends I made while almost having no fixed abode

Finding strength in collective grief

The fingerprint office, which left a big mark

Corporate life, which embraced me fully

Having a capacity to give and accept love while pretending I don’t


The trauma that came in several guises and taught me empathy

Family who are friends 

Friends who are family, and

The 14 year old sensing there is more to life than this

He is still me.

One thought on “THEN I’M 64

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