Aspirations

( To read the translation of this poem click here )

Ah'm leav'in skoo on Friday.

Aah'v geet misel a job.

Aah'm start'in i smithy come Monday.

For a wage of thirt'y bob.

Tomorrow aas't at go't serp'lus store.

Fot get some hob nailed boots.

Un then aah'l waant an avasack.

Un one of them theer beyler suits.

Aah did'nt waant fot go in't factry.

Un definatly not deawn pit.

So av geet misel an apprenticeship.

But mi fayther, he did'nt laahk it.

"Norr as much money as they gerr in't factry. Tha knows"

Un they'l tak thi forr a foo.

As soon as tha's done serv'in thi time.

Tha'l eend up back in't dole queue".

"Chep labour that’s what them jobs are.

Aah'm tell'in they ickle come to neawt.

Thaah should have come ter't Maypow.

Where aah could sort thi eawt"

"There's no way thill get me deawn't pit.. Dad

Aah'm beawnt bet'ther misel one day.

As soon as aah come eawt mi time.

Aah'l eend up on full pay.

Aahs't av mi own eaws one fine day.

Un aah'm goo'int av a car.

Un as't tak mi childer for an oliday.

Someweer further afar.

Aah'v norr had much in't way of things.

Un as't at do it misel, it seems.

Burr aah'v geet mi yed screwed on reet road.

Un besides…Aah'v geet mi Dreams

 

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Copyright © 1998 Jeff Unsworth

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