Against the Odds

I heard them sneer behind my back,
“Mummy’s boy,” they cried;
but how could I leave her
without a man by her side?
She ran the local chippy
and always smelled of fat
I did all the odd jobs
but folk don’t remember that.

I dreamed of writing books
of the stories in my head,
but the words kept on drowning
in the bottles by my bed.
The shop became a prison.
She jailed me with her love.
How I longed to fly free
just like the clouds above.

Then along came his aging nibs,
and mum went all a quiver.
People thought I would be jealous
when he made her old bones shiver.
But I thought – I’ll take my leave;
now I will spread my wings.
I own nothing but my backpack
and a heart that truly sings.

Now I am a seasoned traveller
and see so many sights.
I try delicious national dishes
and climb the highest heights,
but there’s one thing I will never touch,
It will not pass my lips.
I will never, ever, eat again
bloody fish and chips.