The More Things Change

I wrote this in response to a university activity, where I was tasked with writing a 10 to 16 line poem in which I was to focus my attention on an aspect of development in a character. I chose to write about myself and my maturity.



I used to be a boy,

That used to do boy things.

I had boxes packed with toy cars,

and crates of building blocks.

I had countless football shirts and

myriad marbles, of

contrasting colours that

made other boys jealous.


But now I am a man,

and have to act grown up.

I have drawers jam packed with letters

concerning repayments.

I have a pain in my right leg

that I cannot explain.

I have children and a

wife, and I am content.


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