A hobbledehoy when I was just a boy.
Too tongue-tied and clumsy words.
Getting all muddled up with confusion.
Around other people I felt insecure.
Knocking items and things over.
Inside buildings and shops I felt scared.
Society calling The Cops or flops.
This just made me more anxious.
Running away from all the fools.
Those that used hoity-toity tools.
Caused my anti-clockwise movements.
On the outer skirts of cities and towns.
Using up their excuses with frowns.
But I always got out of PE.
With a simple crying or sobbing face.
It may've sounded such a disgrace.
Falling over desks and chairs.
Always in my own little world of neglect.
Without a mobile phone.
Or that horrible histrionic book.
The one that doesn't have a face.
Now get off my case.
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