Last

I don’t like to be in last place.

Last to know Mother is dead,

last to hear that our ship by the sea

has holes in it.

I should like to horse around

with Father, like we once did.

But I know he gotten angry,

serious. I hope we don’t

become street children,

rifling in bins for food.

That would spoil

things. School Sports Day

is happening tomorrow.

I hate that.

It is another event

where I shall come in last.

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