And that was it
not a thing to be done
or said Ingrid thought
walking home from school
her satchel over
her shoulder
the battered satchel
her father picked up
from some shop
but if that wasn’t
bad enough
the pink wire
framed spectacles
which made her eyes
large as saucers
were a target
for the boys at school
who called her four eyes
but it wasn’t her fault
she needed glasses
and her parents
couldn’t afford others
then there was
the dresses she wore
and the holey socks
and jumpers
and her hair was lank
and kept in place
with metal slides
even the other girls
in class avoided
sitting next to her
she crossed over
the road looking
both ways
as her mother told her
she hated school
disliked the lessons
she didn’t understand
and only the boy Benedict
was friendly to her
only he talked
in the playground
and didn’t
call her four eyes
and that time
he walked home
with her and said
she was pretty
no one had ever
called her pretty before
but he seemed
to mean it
and he showed her
his favourite bombsite
and shared
his bag of toffees
and bought her
a penny drink
from the shop
in Harper Road
and it was such
a hot day
and she was so thirsty
and she said
I haven’t any money
not even a penny
and he said
it’s on me
and that other time
they sat on the grass
by Banks House
and he told her
about Ivanhoe
and the metal sword
his father made him
and the cloak he wore
like Ivanhoe
which was really
one of his mother’s scarves
she wished he was there
beside her now
but he was away
in some convalescent home
by the seaside
after an operation
she stood on the kerb
waiting for the lights
to change from red to green
if only other boys
were like him
kind and friendly
not hurtful and mean.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem