Cargando...

Nitwit

My arms were tired, my hands were red
my legs felt like they were made of lead.
I wanted a drink, I needed some food
and I really was in a terrible mood.
The hot sun felt like a weight on my shoulders
things I couldn’t shift, like the heaviest boulders.
But ahead of me I saw three people in a fight
shouting and swearing with all their might.
I was so distracted, I did not see,
a pole about the height of my knee.
So naturally, I went straight into it
and people stopped to stare and to call me a
Nitwit.

Who knows if nitwit is a proper word these days, but in primary school
the word was all the craze. This was the first poem I wrote that actually had rhythm (apart from the last line!) and I actually performed it (to my class and friends and family) in the style of John Hegley. This is a true happening -except most probably a bit exaggerated!

Preferido o celebrado por...
Otras obras de Helena Pickup...



Top