Poverty and Pride

Growing up in the 1940’s was a whole different experience compared to today.


It used to be the way it was, for kids down our street,
Cardboard stuffed the holes in our soles, we suffered soaking feet
Cardboard didn’t count for much in the winter snow
We were plagued with chilblains in seven degrees below

But off to school, we had to walk, no money for the fare
Hands and feet were freezing long before we’re there
Old socks for gloves upon our hands to fight away the chill
Food was still on ration, were skinny kids but still

We were happy as little sandboys, we hadn’t got a care
And never had any money, but still, we loved to share
All the happiness in our hearts with brother, sister, mate
Bomb sites were our playing fields, we thought that they were great

Playing trouble in the rubble, an old stick for a gun
We were cowboys and Indians, didn’t matter who lost or won
We’d play away for hours a day ‘til called in for our tea
Eat what was put in front of us, no picky buggers we

And if you didn’t like it Mum said that’s all right
Go to bed hungry then, it’ll be here tomorrow night
So up we grew us slum kids, didn’t know that we were poor
For every family that we knew was just the same for sure

We were supposed to be deprived you see, whatever that word meant
Barely enough for food and stuff, we sometimes dodged the rent
But we grew up to be decent folk and raised our kids the same
But today, the criminals say ‘it’s our poverty what’s to blame.’



© pronto 2023
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Great Pronto
,it brought back memories to an old geezer of 92,I was brought up like that in Germany in those days,we had bugger all except the youth movements,in which we were indoctrinated, However apart from that my childhood was not dissimilar to yours. I would recommend this poem to be read by today’s kids!!! Worth a nib.Be lucky,


Hi Pronto,
I never lived in Germany after the war,In fact I was here as a POW,having spent just over a year in the German Forces,Thank you however for your kind mail.Best wishes from an old man to a “Youngster”.HA1Ha!.be lucky, Pommer.

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