When I was eight.

This poem was the first I wrote many years ago after realising I could write a poem about me and my life.                                        

             When I was eight                                           

When I was eight, many, many years ago, I had a plan to find happiness and things I adore.  

I sit here alone and wonder why, one day, we are born, and another day we die.

When you are little, you fight and you play, and probably do the same thing the very next day.

Not much happens from one to ten, just school, your friends and making a den.

After that, you start growing tall; finally, finally, I can get over that wall.

I never needed money at all, not until my mother went on the dole.

As you grow up, you want more cash; I only wish my mam had a stash.

You get a job and work all day; is it really worth that little pay? 

.At twenty-five, you find your spouse, and in the same year, you move into a house.

At thirty-five, you split in two, remembering what your mother said came true.

I don't know why life is this way, but it's good to know we live the same way.

So here I am at 38, wishing, hoping, wanting to go back, been eight.