Chapter 5. The Children’s Home.


The Children’s Home

The home I was put in was dirty and cold

The building smelt of musk and was very old

The staff clothed me and fed me as little as they could

They didn’t look after me as they should

I always had dirt on my face

They left me to wander alone, all over the place

I was left alone to roam

In every room in the children’s home

The rooms were dull and very bare

They contained a few beds and just one chair

I shared a room with five other kids

The windows were secured with metal grids

The staff said it was to keep thieves at bay

But I think it was to stop us from running away

I hated that home, I felt like a prisoner of war

I hated it to my heart’s core

There were cobwebs all over the ceiling

The paper on the walls was dirty and peeling

The windows were cracked, they weren’t very safe

This was no place to keep a young waif

What would happen if I fell?

Would they be concerned? Would they hell!

The windows were dirty and grimy

The floors were wet, slippy and slimy

A cleaner would come around every day

Her job was to keep the dirt at bay

But she didn’t do a very good job

She was nothing but a lazy slob

She didn’t last long, she got sacked

The new cleaner wasn’t any better and that was a fact

No-one in the home seemed to care

If there was dirt and dust everywhere

There was a two inch layer of dust on the window sill

I’m surprised no-one fell ill

I hardly had any toys

I was always picked on by the boys

In fact most of the kids picked on me

Because I was small and so skinny

They always used to pull my hair

They were older than me but they didn’t care

The staff always used to turn a blind eye

I could never fathom out why

I always had nits and was covered in lice

The children’s home was infested with mice

Around my room the mice would creep

Scratching and squeaking as we all tried to sleep

I told the staff one night when I was eating my tea

That those horrible mice were scaring me

They looked upon with a face of disgust

Shook their heads, shouted and cussed

They told me to shut up and eat my tea

They never seemed to be bothered about me

All they were worried about was their pay

And going home at the end of the day

We poor children didn’t have a life

We were living on the edge of a knife

Chapter 6

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About The Jaw K.A.Shaw

I am a writer from Manchester in the U.K. A writer who believes to have written the World's longest novel in the English language, written by a single person and in Rhyming Couplets. My book, The Jaw Revisited is over 100,000 words which span over 450 pages. Although in the literary world this is classified as poetry, I believe it is a fusion of Poetry, Art and Horror story telling. I do not pretend to be a literary genius, I just write from the heart and what comes naturally to me. No flowery words or phrases, I don't compare thee to a summer's day or anything like that. I write about true life drama, Science Fiction and with a weird imagination. Combine those three together and you get The Jaw Revisited, a no holds barred, straight to the point, dramatised, adventure through life.

Posted on July 11, 2011, in Chapters From The Jaw and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. 2 Comments.

  1. I loved reading this writing piece of yours. Your description was so detailed that I felt like I was there. Reading this, I couldn’t help to feel the feelings of sadness and abandonment of the children. Great work. Thank you for visiting my blog too. I appreciate your comment. I have since altered the ending of that poem, just to let you know. I wasn’t satisfied with the first ending, so I extended it. I’ve read a quotation somewhere before that said something about poetry is a never endng, always unfinished, work 🙂

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