A Roman soldier, aged 6.
On the walk to and from school,
I wore armour, a helmet, held a sword and a shield,
each authentically moulded in grey and gold plastic.

Twice ambushed.
Once, outside the bakery,
a second time, on Chapel Lane.
Both times, punched hard in the face.

Both times by the same boy,
who occassionally walked home in my shoes.
I had no idea why he picked on me.
It seemed he lived a charmed life.

But maybe not?


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.