My name is Richard, never Dick,
I’ve not allowed that name to stick,
It’s now become my golden rule
To banish all those thoughts of school.
My therapist tells me ‘Start afresh,
A name can carry so much stress,’
And so I’m trying awfully hard
To play my newfound Richard card.
I knew at school I wasn’t bright,
But Mr Short taught me to write,
He also bought a special book,
And, gosh the hours that he took,
To help me read across the page
And now it helps me earn my wage.
I really hated classroom life
It brought me so much grief and strife,
They called me really dreadful names
And wouldn’t let me join their games
But Mr Short would not abide,
On hearing any such aside,
And always helped me to be strong
‘You know what’s right and what is wrong,
But many here will never know
The sadness that their words will sow,’
And on reflection I can see
He had some sympathy for me,
Because they all had names for him
Like Shortie Arse or Tiny Tim.
I couldn’t help my thicker specs
My eyes are truly awful wrecks,
Or that I have a weakened heart
So in team sports I took no part ,
(Tho’ actually a saving grace,
I doubt if I’d have found a place).
It really wasn’t very fair
The way that I was treated there.
My Mum and Dad were very good
And helped to do all that they could
To make my school days not so bad,
And tried to make friends with a lad
Who also had few pals at school
But even he thought me a fool
Which made it even worse for me,
Until I wished they'd let it be.