Childhood

Tell me all the stories,
When i was just a kid,

The never ending harmless fun,

And all the things we did.

Billy carts and skateboards,

And rolling down the hill,

Cricket match in our front yard,

Good memories thought of still.

The bindii patch, the green thing,

Farewelled with tagging art,

The neighbours and the barbecues,

Pyjamas of flammable fart.

The radio tower backdrop,

Jedha Bush across the road,

The park and infamous ant nest,

Our simple house, abode.
 

Cracker nights and mega bonfires,

The streets alive with fun,

Overhearing shouting neighbours,

And some innocent knock and run.

The scaring of the milkman,

As he wandered past our room,

Hot nights with just a washer,

Killing spiders with a broom.

Cousins came over for a visit,

Ball shooters fired for fun,

Scaring cats apon my lap,

Slip and slides out in the sun.

There was a bunch of happy times,

And stuff I'll never forget,

But obviously there were instances,

That I will always regret