I have long since lost my innocence, but how did it occur?
Was it way back in the ominous autumn of 1982
As I thrilled to Michael Jackson on MTV
Morphing into a werewolf and later a zombie
Requiring 4 decades to build the courage to sleep with the light off
Or perhaps it went AWOL in the summer of ‘84
When I caught the news that my dad routinely watched,
Telling of the skirmishes in the collieries up north
As I realised for the first time, that we don’t all get the same breaks
And that government motives were something to be suspicious of
Maybe it skipped out on me when I reached my teens
My best friend and I playing nervous with the boys at the park
They always wanted to hang out with us
but we were never good enough to be their girls
No matter how much dry-humping we endured.
Perhaps it was stolen by a lover twice my age
Who wasn’t blessed with the balls
To admit we were a thing
Though anyone around us with half a brain knew it
I may perchance have mislaid it
in the short spell socialising with angels
No matter how hard I think back
I can’t recall glimpsing a single halo
Blessed, as they were, with their own moral code
I think you get the idea
It slipped out when I was young
And now approaching forty-eight
It’s well and truly gone
Poetry for Dullards 