As a child I learned to conceal food
inside my trousers when daddy was away,
and I still do, at the age of nineteen;
hoarding meats and cheeses upstairs,
biscuits and battenburg cake,
and club sandwiches, all washed down
with diet coke and sometimes sweet milkshakes.

Turning out my pocket the day before last,
after hurriedly stuffing some nibbles within,
I saw that the cloth was caked with chocolate.
Clearly my art still needs perfecting, or maybe
I've lost my touch, though that can't be so,
as I haven't been caught. Literally an elephant
in the room, my bulk is an indicator though.

it's actually sad but it made me laugh, or at least smile a little

for me the last word doesn't work and therefore isn't needed. ( a small nit i know)
i'm sure lots will feel an affinity to this one. it has a sad kind of humour in its words.
a good narrative poem

thanks for the read as always.

(11-02-2010, 10:27 AM)billy Wrote:  it's actually sad but it made me laugh, or at least smile a little

for me the last word doesn't work and therefore isn't needed. ( a small nit i know)
i'm sure lots will feel an affinity to this one. it has a sad kind of humour in its words.
a good narrative poem

thanks for the read as always.

Thanks for recognising the serious side of this poem; I thought I'd done something wrong when the DU commenters said how jolly and nostalgic it was! I put in "though" to rhyme with "so," but I take your point; it is a bit extraneous.
Thanks for your kind feedback, Billy