Friday, May 2, 2008

Back to front

I am born.
I am small.
I am running around.
I am hurtling down a hill with my brother beside me.
I am told off.
I am overfeeding a guinea pig with grass.
I am excited about the cockle man
I am bored by the adults playing bingo.
I am drinking pop with a paper straw.
I am in the back of a wardrobe.
I am dancing to a band.
I am carrying a bag I made out of a cushion cover.
I am a schoolboy.
I am fast.
I am picked on for having big ears.
I am even faster.
I am a scrapper.
I am scared.
I am funny.
I am someone’s best friend.
I am a runner.
I am imaginative.
I am picked on for having big ears.
I am left out.
I am a fly half.
I am in big school.
I am rubbish at maths.
I am good at drawing.
I am watching.
I am still scrapping.
I am sitting on a bench.
I am dreaming.
I am rollerskating.
I am holding hands.
I am scared.
I am going to be something.
I am not sure what.
I am 6ft.
I am a driver.
I am not a virgin.
I am not a stud.
I am away from home.
I am insecure.
I am trying very hard.
I am drunk.
I am out of my depth.
I am a scrapper.
I am in a big city.
I am alone.
I am in a library.
I am walking.
I am working.
I am drunk again.
I am drunk some more.
I am a worry to those who love me.
I am here, there and everywhere.
I am dancing.
I am Camden.
I am the bee’s knees.
I am reading.
I am fat.
I am someone to someone.
I am alone.
I am the man with the note pad.
I am older.
I am happy.
I am imagining…
I am someone to someone special.
I am all of these things and much more.
I am not defined by ulcerative colitis.
Not ever.
No way.
I am drunk.