You may think - a poem for those being bullied!

You may think that I am boring!

You may think that I am square!

You may think that I am weird!

Cos of how I wear my hair!

You may say that you don't like me!

You may talk behind my back!

You may whisper loads of gossip!

You may give me lots of flak!

Just because I may act differently!

And may seem rather strange!

Doesn't mean that you should put me down!

Use me like a firing range!

One day something may happen,

Which turns your life around!

Where you may not be so gorgeous!

So keep your feet upon the ground!

If you're being bullied

Hold your head up high

Because the one who does the bullying

Inside, they may have died!

© Carolyn Davison 13th June 2013

 

 

 

Music Theory Exam

I sat at the school desk; blank as the black of night

Pen poised and ready, what was I gonna write?

The words on the front, in bold said Theory Test;

I knew deep in my beating heart I had to do my best!

Opening the paper, I looked on the page,

There were loads of black notes; written on the stave.

Put in the bar lines, time signature and clef

Were they for the right hand or were they for the left?

Counting all the quavers, semis, demis too,

Adding all the bars lines made me feel quite blue.

Was the key in major? How many sharps and flats?

If I get the whole thing wrong, I'm gonna feel a prat!

Now for transposition, take it down a few!

Do I count the semitones? I don't know what to do! 

I start to tear my hair out. I start to weep and cry,

Why am I doing this, please tell me WHY?

My head starts spinning, I know the info's there!

If I cannot find it - would I really care?

Do I use a Leading Note? Do I use a Tonic?

I really wish I had a brain, which was supersonic 

I looked up from my paper and gazed around the hall!

The room was totally empty, tears began to fall.

I hadn't even started, my brain had gone astray

I wondered if I should carry on, or walk right away!

I looked at the wall clock, with only five mins to go.

Do I write a minim, a doh, ray, mi or soh?

The room started spinning, my knees were feeling weak.

Then I opened up my eyes - the alarm began to shriek!

My duvet felt quite soggy, with tears, I'd cried that night!

I want to do my very best and get each question right!

I'd love to get a Merit, a Distinction would be great, 

A Pass would be OK, but a Fail I would hate! 

So as I look forward, to my Music Theory Test, 

The only thing I need to do is try my very best!

© Carolyn Davison (8th June 2013)

ALL THE BEST TO EVERYONE WHO HAS AN EXAM (WHATEVER IT MAY BE) 

I received a Merit (88%). 

 

British Justice?

British Justice?

If I robbed a jewellery store

I’d get 20 years to life!

But I’d get rather less

If I murdered someone’s wife!

If I defrauded lots of cash

The police would be after me!

There are those who get away with it

They are called MPs!

What is British Justice?

Is it just at all?

Especially when the ‘common man’

Is the one to take the fall!

It seems, if you’re an MP

You get away with breaking laws;

You may even be promoted

And start earning millions more!

Where is British Justice

When a man’s shot down dead

By those employed to protect us?

Shooting bullets in his head!

Where is British Justice

When groups shout “Kill the Queen!”?

They never get arrested

You know who I mean!

What is British justice?

I really can not think,

It seems to favour criminals

And those who like pink

What is British justice?

Seems like life ain’t worth a jot

‘Cept if you steal money or jewels

Your body’s left to rot!

So much for British justice

Seems like it’s really bent!

And most of Britain’s criminals

Are in the Houses of Parlia-ment

©Carolyn Davison

Wash Your Hands

When you go to the loo
Always wash your hands
Because those little things
Called germs
Hang around in bands

They stick to door handles
They grasp onto your food
They get on almost everywhere
I'm not trying to be rude

BUT

Wash your hands - it ain't hard
Wash them with soap and water
And then you won't spread disease
Life will be what it aught'a

AFTER GOING TO THE TOILET WASH YOUR HANDS - TO STOP THE SPREAD OF DISEASE

That was a public health warning given to you by the Department of Clean Hands and Fresh Loos

 

©Carolyn Davison 7th April 2013

Don't Cry for me Falkland Islands

It's very easy,

And it's not strange

When I tell the world how I feel!

My country's in ruins - 

It's bankrupt, you see,

I've spent the money,

I need a distraction

Away from me

Now where can I turn my gaze?

The Falklands, across the sea

I really need those Islands,

I need their oil!

I must make a scream and a fuss! 

I will make up some stories

About how it is ours!

Go to the UN

And see if they will support my cause!

I hope they are on my side

Or I will start some wars!

Don't cry for me Falkland Islands!

The truth is, I want your oil!

I care not 'bout the people;

Their referendum!

I want the Islands

 For their resources!

And as for Francis, now that he's pope,

I think I will sucker him in!

Although in the past I've hated his guts - 

He will be useful!

He's a brilliant solution 

For my evil plan

The answer was here all the time

Jorgé the re-ligious man!

Don't cry for me Falkland Islands!

The truth is, I want your oil!

I care not 'bout the people;

Their referendum!

I want the Islands

 For their resources!

I always say too much;

There's plenty more I can think up to say to you!

Rewrite our nation's history

And make the world think

Every word is true!

© Carolyn Davison 29th March 2013

Molar

I went into the room and I sat in the chair

Where the dentist said I thought that I had told ya

T-O-L-D told ya

He walked up to me and said open wide

I looked very scared, even more when he cried MOLAR

M-O-L-A Molar mo-mo-mo-mo- molar

Well I'm not usually one to cry

But when he brought out his pliers there's a tear in my eye

Oh my molar, mo-mo-mo-mo- molar

Well I closed my eyes and clung to his hand

And wouldn't let go, like a rubber band

Oh my molar, mo-mo-mo-mo- molar, mo-mo-mo-mo- molar

Well he pulled and he pulled with all his might

Under his electric light

He asked for assistance from the guy next door

Who said "It might be better if she lay..."

I'm not usually someone to moan

But when I looked at those pliers, I felt a loss for my molar

mo-mo-mo-mo- molar, mo-mo-mo-mo- molar

Molar mo-mo-mo-mo- molar, mo-mo-mo-mo- molar

I jumped out the chair

I ran to the door

I slipped to the floor

I got up on my knees

I looked at him, and he at me

I like my tooth and I want it to stay

And really I want it to be that way for my molar

mo-mo-mo-mo- molar

I like my teeth and my teeth like me

It's just the way I really want it to be

for my molar, mo-mo-mo-mo- molar

Well I had a pain the week before

And I can say it ain't bad anymore.

The dentist smiled and said "You'll be fine,

I missed the molar, took out a canine!"

I looked in the mirror and saw the gap

Went away, still a happy chap

For my molar

mo-mo-mo-mo- molar

mo-mo-mo-mo- molar

Molar mo-mo-mo-mo- molar

mo-mo-mo-mo- molar etc...

© Carolyn Davison 25th March 2013 (lyrics)

Me singing it (sorry it goes out of tune and strange in some places *blush* )

PLEASE NOTE if you do sing this to the tune of Lola the copyright doesn't belong to me!

Choosing a new pope

Eeny Meeny Miney Mo
Choose a pope
Who won't say no
Choose a pope
Who won't make noise
One who likes the altar boys
Choose one good
And choose one fair
Mainly one with grey hair