Four Years
it is all so mature
but there comes a point
when you think about the future
and you really mean it
not just dreaming it
there comes a point
when playing around
can no longer be undertook
you realise, the last four or so years
have shot by so fast
you are not sure where they have gone
now they have become part of your past
you think about the next four
what will happen then
to achieve nothing at all
and see those four years pass
would be the greatest tragedy
it is all so serious
and seemingly so bloody mature
not joking or being delirious
here i am planning for the future
James Garratt – March 1998
Four Years
The Boy Behind The Glasses. Poetry and Writing 