Skin and Ink
I was tattooed at eighteen, I was a little scared,
the room was filled with bikers, all leathers and long haired
i'd got my rocker stripes and wasn't all naive
there's more to these big hairy blokes, than often is perceived
I knew what I wanted and what I had to pay
in truth I had been waiting, for this momentous day,
soon it was all finished, etched in ink on skin
(it looked so good in those days, when I was really thin!!!)
So my nerves weren't for the pain,it wasn't all that bad
and my friends all loved it, so about it I was glad,
so why my trepidation,on this long awaited day?
Nerves about my mother and what she'd have to say!!!
Now I'm nearly thirty, I've got more throughout the years
I'm now planning my biggest yet to allay my aging fears
my mother doesn't say much now ,and I don't have to fear
as she would be a hypocrite as I bought her one last year!!!
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
