Not Long Left
School Dinner Day - Poem by Not Long Left
my belly is rumbling,
and is grumbling for food,
waiting for one o'clock
thinking what dinner will choose.
the teachers words pass me by,
if i dont eat now i am going to die,
and at that very moment the bells rings
what delights will the dinner lady bring.
i hate queuing up for food,
moving down the line at a snails pace,
whilst some of the bigger boys,
push past and take my place,
i hate queuing up for food.
eventually i am greeted by the dinner lady,
who greets me with a grunt and then garbles,
'fish and chips
mash and mince'
'burger, sausages waffles or beans'
her red sweaty face and her shirt
bursting at the seams.
i go for burgers, chips and beans,
but am now faced with the decision,
should it be glorious custard sludge
or a rather odd looking choclate fudge.
at the till,
i plunge my hand into the abyss,
which once was a pocket,
and fish out what seems a thousand coins,
a weeks supply
of what i call the pavement sweep,
has got me my dinner
and i have still got my packed luch to eat!
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