That was the sound of me slipping in the corridor yesterday going to the Community Room, and slamming in to the room door, almost leaving a Tracey shaped hole in it. Luckily for me (and the door) it held, and all I did was stay there, with the words ‘RCT detached Youth Worker’ emblazed on the back of my red hoody for all to see. It could have been worse, because I could have slid down the door to land in a crumpled heap on the floor. Either way, I seem to have detached myself from reality for a bit…luckily, no-one saw this happen (the door incident, not me going out of my mind, but those who know me would argue, I’ve never been in touch with reality), and to date, this has been the only incident of returning back to work after Christmas.
See, I said I would be posting for this year soon!! And you lot did not believe me! Snort!
Anyway, just before I ended up kissing the door with my face, I encountered a group of girls I have been working with for several weeks, and one of them shoved a piece of paper in my hand with strict instructions for me to read it, and said that she would be in ‘drop in’ lunch time. Intrigued to say the least, I began reading this letter, when I abruptly ended up flat against the door due to slipping. I probably wouldn’t have been in that particular position if I’d been paying attention to where I was going and to what I was doing (let this be a warning to all of you). After I had detached myself from the door (geddit?) and entered the room the normal way, that is to say, I walked through it after opening it, I realised the paper I had contained a poem. It was about Easter, and I have included it here for you all to read because it’s so brilliant. This poem is written by a young person who wants to be known as Lillie, so watch this space for future poems!!!!! (In case the poem didn’t upload further down, I have included it here).
Easter by Lillie
Mum has a picnic, dad has a sigh
They’re all getting ready for Easter is nigh
A dash to the shops to pick up some eggs
Mum has a chat to a couple of regs
Nan’s in a hurry, Gramps in a rush
My eggs off them this year are bound to be lush
Easter came and Easter went
This year like last year mum overspent
Dad’s bank is not happy for him to waste money
on chocolate and gifts, but Mum thinks it’s funny
See she’s old and senile and not quite with it
She’s out in the garden cutting the privet
This Easter’s my last WHY? I haven’t a clue
Mum’s got a reason because I’m 42!