Some of us had under clothes
the poorest of us had none
But then who worried
we all swam naked
in the bog burn pool
A child of the fifties, most
had empty pockets
But our hearts were full
of fun and laughter
Simple wants like
being fed, a warm bed.
No iPads, iPhones
Then, Just a red box in
the street for all
A bit of green grass
to kick a homemade ball
Water to make a slide
on the icy winter street
Chalk to play hop skip
and jump, and chasing
for the older girls and boys
Looking for that kiss
that never came.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem