Before we knew each other
I was lump
Creamy little bump
A shapeless clump of energy,
As I entered your world.
In later years we sat, sunk in your armchair,
Me, a little clay ball on your lap turning pages
Tracing grubby fingers as you read to me
Filled my head with the actions that shape us,
Make us into something worthwhile.
I climbed the gate for that girl at Nursery
I told Ryan Skuse to leave them alone
till he thumped me in the mud
And I was slippery with tears,
till I was in sight of our home.
Till I was in sight of you.
Now my heart gulps
as you tell me
about this new lump,
Cold lump, uninvited
And you cry down the phone
And later so do I
At the lump in my throat
Lump in my throat
that just won't go away.
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Comments about this poem (Lump by Mark Grist )
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