I was ashamed

I was ashamed of my dad
waiting for me at the school gates
in boiler suit and dirty hands

he was a welder
got burnt often on the pipes
marled by molten metal
sparks and flame

I was ten years old
never had a good thought
about my dad, about anything much
mother had gone
and I thanked God
I was free from her violence
of mouth and hand

I was ashamed of my dad
never having money
clothing me in shoddy clothes
and broken shoes
I walked for miles past the quarry
and along Wrose Road
three miles in all
to the haven of my room
given to me by my dad
waiting for me at the school gates.

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