A Poetic Interlude

Two pieces of paper fell out of the back of one of my diaries recently and I was mortified to discover that it wasn’t more Fact Files (Stalker Notes) but two attempts at a poem entitled ‘THE PIG THAT MOOED!’ – all in capitals and exclaimed to really emphasise just how shit it was going to be. There were also, of course, drawings.

In the spirit of If Destroyed Still True, I am compelled to share. What is wrong with me?

Here we go then…

By Tess Simpson age 13 April 1996

There once was a pig,
Who could only moo,
Not grunt or oink,
Like other pigs do.

For a time he kept his mouth well shut,
But when he got excited he could not do much.

The other pigs laughed and teased a lot,

…that’s the point when I assume I realised it was amazingly crap so I stopped dead to draw a picture.

Poem version 1

Sadly though, I tried again.

By Tess Simpson age 13 April 1996

There once was a pig who started to moo,
The other pigs just rejected him too.

Poem version 2

So one day he left the farm,
His family and a nice cosy barn,
He walked through fields through

…and here’s when I hopefully became aware I shouldn’t be allowed pens and paper. Who let me near them in the first place?! Bloody school, teaching me how to write. Loosely.

I’m now longing for the Dougie stalking to recommence because that is about a million times less cringe-worthy than this, the poetic equivalent of wet bread. It’s HORRIBLE and makes me pull grimace-y faces.

I bet Beyoncé was never this embarrassing.


Tess x

2 thoughts on “A Poetic Interlude

  1. Pingback: I’ve copied his writing – 8th January 1997 | If Destroyed Still True

  2. Pingback: A pessimist is a well-informed optimist | If Destroyed Still True

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