08.08.2014, Friday, 12:34 pm


Finally, after all these days of heartache after heartache, I have something to look forward to. Seeing the back of my devilish cousin sister for the last time as she makes her way into the duty free area of the JFK is going to be one of the highlights of my [otherwise sucky] summer.

Talking about holiday highlights, I have exactly one delicious week left before I am part if the party-going, sleep-till noon-ing, parent-back-answering gang, also known as “The Teens.” I shudder to think of the day.

Which is why I have decided to compose a poem in honour of my remaining days as a pre-13 kid;

Twelve Again

What I would give to turn twelve again

To have one year extra still left

Before I start talking back to my ‘rents 

And maybe even practising theft

How I wish I hadn’t squandered my time

On unimportant things

Because I’m SO not ready for teenagehood

And everything it brings

Most of my friends are already thirteen

They try to soothe me down

When I start blabbering on being a teen

And my face is set in a frown

But there’s only so much that they can do

So much they can persuade

One cannot fluff up the bed

If it doesn’t want to be made

All I REALLY want to do right now

Is scream; just SCREAM

Because if there’s one thing I don’t want to be

It’s definitely thirteen 

Did I SERIOUSLY just compare my buddies inability to convince me that being a year more than twelve isn’t  a crime to doing up a BED???

Shoot me. Please shoot me.


2 thoughts on “08.08.2014, Friday, 12:34 pm

  1. I would shoot, but my AK47 has run out of bullets. Don’t worry though, Dad’s gone to the supermarket to buy me a few. Should be back any moment now…

    • I don’t know what to be more alarmed about, that you have an AK47 -the God of all guns- or your apparent eagerness to kill me…
      I should probably be more selective abaout choosing my friends in the future.

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