To Be My Father’s Son.
My father said you do not need to worry wee bairn.
One day you will grow up to be a real Glasgow man.
So, I believed him, it was all was going to be alright.
I gradually set about getting on with my young life.
The days and years quickly passed, and I got older.
Increasingly i found myself in an awful lot of bother.
Was a brutal hard life on the mean Glasgow streets.
Making it totally on your own no one there to teach.
As I got older no one informed me what might follow.
The savage violence, the drugs, sex and the alcohol.
It was just part and parcel of everyday city street life.
It had to be done if you wanted any chance to survive.
When I left school, I had no intention of being a docker.
I thought I could be different not just a payroll number.
The teen years had led me down the streets of trouble.
I decided I wanted to become the famous bank robber.
I knew all the right connections to help achieve my aim.
Put our stupid heads together and came up with a plan.
We covered every angle, twice, so we foolishly thought.
It turned out proper professionals we certainly were not.
We drove over and waited outside the planned location.
Bang on 10:00 PM we started to put our plan into action.
Entering the Bank building our plan came crashing down.
Inside there were smiling policemen just hanging around.
Laughing and smiling they showed us to the police cells.
Had great pleasure informing us, we were all going to jail.
There was no way out for us, I knew I had done the crime.
Head down for a 3-year sentence and quietly did my time.
I realised I was not the man my father expected me to be.
Always in serious trouble and not contributing to society.
On my release I vowed I would forever stay out of trouble.
And that maybe it's not too bad to return and be a docker.
Working in the docks I realised I was finally coming of age.
Survived the merciless ribbon and had been taught a trade.
It was my long hard working five years in the city Docklands.
That is how I grew up, in the end i became my father's son.
Nataiella
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Author:
Tobani / Nataiella (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: February 19th, 2025 03:00
- Comment from author about the poem: I wrote this a few years ago about a bloke who used to have a bevvy with us, he used to tell us of his life and how he once took the wrong track. I have written it as if he was speaking.
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 15
- Users favorite of this poem: Cheeky Missy
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Comments8
Life of hard knocks. A great prodigal son type story that keeps the reader held by the story. Nicely done
Thank you for your kind words, very much appreciated
Some raw honesty here. But always taking the right lesson from life's experience good and bad. Excellent hopeful poem
Thank you for your feedback, very much appreciated
I had a cousin who was once a chief of wharfies, they had it rough, those blokes and lads. But hailing from an island, they always had provisions even when sailing and flying were canceled due to the weather and such.
Thank you for your comment, very much appreciated
You’re most welcome 🙏🏻🕊
A real engaging write which held me to the end - a super piece.
Thank you for your kind words, very much appreciated
An interesting account of someone who turned their life round for the better. Most enjoyable Tobani. He had a rotten start. All good wishes.
Thank you for your kind words, always appreciated.
Fine write Tobani, it is amazing how lives can be changed by one new step in the right direction.
Andy
Thank you for your kind words, very much appreciated
We none of us know what exactly shaped our neighbour until we hear it from them or read it in a newspaper .. What an excellent piece of literature encompassing a life and perfectly poemed, my good man .. Neville
Thank you for your kind words, enjoy the rest of your day
Exquisitely rendered with a haunting poignancy and imagery surpassing my wonted categorization. I love it! Thank you so very, very much for sharing!
Thank you for your kind words, very much appreciated
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