Trade Made - Poem by Rod Morris
From the ages five to fourteen I toiled to make the grade.
My parents said forget it leave school and learn a trade.
So on the day that I turned fifteen, I started my first job.
As a telegram delivery boy, I earned weekly thirty bob.
They supplied the bike, I lent my legs, I pedalled every street.
I wore bike clips on my trousers, shiny patches on my seat.
Four sets of bike tyres later, I decided that's enough.
Then set out to find a new career, without the huff and puff.
A furniture upholsterer, a long time in the game.
Gave ten thousand hours tuition, a diploma with my name.
After just five years hard labour, I finally made the grade.
My parents were ecstatic, for their boy had learned a trade.
At different times in later years, some other jobs Ive had.
But always back to furniture, when times were lean or bad.
Had I stayed at school and swotted, if I'd studied crammed and learned.
As a doctor or a lawyer, just how much would I have earned?
It matters not in hindsight, how much I would have made.
For many things that I have now, I would not have without my trade.
Comments about Trade Made by Rod Morris
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You