Turned my ankle over on a shiny super hard conker,
laid on the pavement, fallen from an urban horse chestnut tree.
If only I was now a whole big bunch of decades younger,
I’d have strung it and obliterated all of my rivals
during break time, in crowded conker competitions at school,
challengers failing to crack my golden brown miracle find.
Proclaimed as champ and regarded as exceptionally cool,
perhaps the resulting confidence would have changed my whole life.