the end of childhood
the end of childhood
I was 9 and in a way an old hand
I had been outside the police station
When women were brought in
they have their cut short because
They had been too friendly with
the enemy
One can say I was a hardened soul
Who didn't expect kindness
I was on my way to a farm, someone
had sent me there for my health
On the way, I got a cat sick, but there was
No window, but I spewed anyway
When the bus stopped, a man in a suit
waited, we walked to a farm
The farmer signed a paper stating that he was responsible
For my well, apparently, I was ill
The farmer's wife led me to a cot in the attic
The mattress was made of straw, not
That I minded, but it does scratch a bit
Then, in the morning, they gave me bread
with homemade jam and milk
Later, they showed me how to provide for cows
dry hay and to clean the muck they
had made in the night, yes, and to give
them water
The cattle liked me scratching their flanks
And I was glad to have hands to scratch
the back of my head
Then I had to go to school, the farmer boys
called me a slum child, but when a boy
Try to hit me, and I struck him with a brick
Big scandal, when this was debated
I worked and enjoyed my work at the farm
At thirteen, I was sent home, big and strong
and quickly found a job delivering
printed stuff on my bike
And that was the end of my childhood
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