Now I know I’ve always been Kak-handed,

And for this I often got myself back-handed,

Dad said I was ‘A useless ornament’,

And I never won any fight or tournament,

But I wus always willing, keen and helpful,

Especially when Dad had had a skinful!

I’d get home from school, a place of fear for me,

Clean the grate, lay the fire and make ready Dad’s tea,

I wasn’t allowed to light the fire you see,

Till Dad got home or unhappy he would be,

Don’t light it until I get home – Dad would decree,

Not worth the cost, coal don’t grow on a tree!

Bath-time was always a hassle for me every time,

Utilise kettles pans of water heated on stove, and the fire,

I drag the tin bath off the wall, and get rid of the grime,

Into the living room, filled it to Dad’s desire,

Towels on the fender warming for him meantime,

Topping the bath up with hot water as he did require,

Eventually he’s get out, into his jamas and retire,

Leaving me to have a bath in front of the burnt out fire.

In his cold mucky water, and to dry off on his soggy towels,

Not a pleasant experience, in fact it was fowl,

Then empty the bath drag it out and hang it back on the yard wall,

Somehow at the time, I didn’t seem to mind at all,

For I knew things would improve, my fortunes improve and grow…

They didn’t though…