Grown out of Poem by Tony Mitton

Grown out of



My trousers are tight.
They just won't fit.

And my jumper?
I've grown out of it.

My shirt's too short.
It just won't do.

There are holes in my socks
where my toes peep through.

So it's lucky I don't
grow out of my skin.

‘Cos then there'd be nothing
to put me in.

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