Last night Mum and I were digging through old family photos because the YTV team wanted to include them in the documentary. We came across some achingly bad poems I wrote when I was about seven. I reproduce one below for your excruciation. Note totally random reference to a cow in the last line. I don’t know, so don’t ask.
And by the way, it’s my birthday today. I’m 39, so I guess this is the last birthday I will ever own up to. I will now be 39 forever.
I’m doing Christmas shopping,
My bags nearly popping.
Theres so many things to choose,
It really gets me quite confused.
I think I’ll get some learning letters
No a farm set would be better.
I think I’ll go and see the lights,
They really will be a delight.
I’ve got all the presents now,
So I think I’ll go home, to feed the cow!