September 16th

As another birthday of mine approaches

And responsibility yet again encroaches

I’m accounting for myself and taking stock

And recounting the minutes of my life’s clock

When I was a child full of frivolity

Oblivious to class, division or quality

Happiness came from kicking a ball

And waiting for my mother’s call

And weekends were taken up

By watching the league or F.A Cup

My innocent like hot air balloons

Drifted away from sunny afternoons

Now I’m chatting about profit and yield

But wanting to hide in a big cornfield

And when be told about new selling techniques

I want to be off school for six long weeks

No internet and no mobile phone

Just Mum to tell us what time to be home

No concerns about price inflation

Just unbridled procrastination

When did those times disappear?

Around the same time as finding beer

Then weekends changed from win or lose

To drinking pints of unnameable booze

Alongside the drinks I was discovering

I learnt that Sundays were for recovering

Woken up only for Full Monty and toast

Then back bed until Sunday roast

Those were the days, the days were mine

Cheered up whenever I think of that time

So kids, hear your folks when they say

These are the greatest of all days