A poem from the 1960's
When I was a small boy my life I enjoyed,
with no cares or worries I played with my toys.
When Mummy said No dear I tried very hard
and when I was ratty she said You are tired.
Well I can remember the time I was nine,
long socks and short trousers I looked very fine.
To my teachers at school I was a fine lad
and relatives said how I looked like my Dad.
But now past eleven whatever's in store?
On the threshold or something they tell me no more.
I look at the big boys and wonder to see
They look so unhappy an long to be free.
Now I want to tell you, in case you forget:
that though I wear jeans now, I haven't changed yet
I still want adventure and laughter and joy
You call me Young Person but I am also a boy.
For sometimes I'm naughty and sometimes I'm glad
and sometimes I'm happy and sometimes just bad.
But still when I'm older and I've got long hair
I shall need you to love me and show that you care