A Girl Called Sid

This is one of the first performance Poems I ever wrote. It’s based on a true story from my childhood. It was initially viewed as it was intended to be perceived… as an innocent, childhood love story. Sadly today, some people  are now ‘over analysing’ it and bringing Gender issues into it. I stand by this poem however, as the innocent, childhood love poem it is…

 

“A GIRL CALLED SID”

I was in love with a girl called ‘Sid’.
She lived down my street when I was a kid.
The only girl in a Street full of boys…
She wore dungarees and corduroys,
And in Monkey Boots and football tops, she spent her reckless childhood days…
Nicking sweets from the corner shops and running amok in the alleyways.

She was the best Footie player in the Street,
She was like Maradonna with a ball at her feet,
She scored goals that made our pulses race…
She tackled than harder than Jimmy Case!
She could bend it like Beckham; she was good in the air,
And she went past defenders like they weren’t even there.

She could throw stones further than any of us…
Straight through the windows of the other school’s bus!!
She’d knock a can off a wall from fifty feet,
And hit you right on the head from the end of the street,
And when it came to scrapping, she was well-hard!!
But there was a budding young woman beneath the façade…
And as time went by, Sid started to glow
Her femininity suddenly started to show…

This street-fighting kid with the bloody nose,
Began budding into an English Rose.
She blossomed more with each passing day,
And I was falling for her, but I couldn’t say.
I think if I’d even dared to try,
To say how I felt, she’d have blackened my eye.

The other lads at school had other eye candy,
Were lusting for; Mary, Milly, Molly… Mandy,
Or Debby Harry, but I never did,
I lusted over my mate Sid!
She’d smile at me, those eyes would flutter,
And I’d just melt like heated butter.

When Sid sat on my chest to nick my sweets,
My heartbeat echoed through the terraced streets…
When Sid threw stones in my direction,
I saw every move as a mark of affection.
As Sid kicked the ball past me, I’d freeze,
As I stood there in goal transfixed by her knees!

Sid… with the crooked toothy smile,
Sid… who thumped me once in a while…
Sid… my roguish counterpart…
Nicked my bike then stole my heart!

I didn’t tell my dad… or confess to my mum,
They’d have probably been struck dumb,
If they’d found out that their street-wise kid,
Was head-over-heels with his mate called ‘Sid’!
So I didn’t tell anyone, didn’t confide,
Just kept my emotions bottled inside.

But I couldn’t eat, I couldn’t sleep.
Cupid’s Arrow was buried deep
I had butterflies in the school yard…
My crush on Sid was crushing me hard,

Then one day the news came tumbling down,
That Sid and her family were moving from town.
My world was suddenly torn apart,
When I watched as Eddie Stobart,
Sent a big green truck called Ellie May,
It collected their stuff, drove it away…
And I haven’t seen Sid again to this day.

So if there’s a woman called ‘Sid’ out there,
Who used to wear Monkey Boots and shave off her hair…
Played football better than any of us,
And shattered the windows of the other school’s bus…
Well although it was such a long time ago,
I would really like you to know…
That, though the miles and the decades have kept us apart…
You still own a piece of my heart!

~
Copyright© Mac McFadden 2003

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