C is for Cool

I think that I’m cool.

I try very hard.

I wear the right trainers.

I think.

I’ve got the right clothes

I’ve got the right hair

It’s just that I’m short

and I’m pink.

My friends are all longer

and stronger than me

They fold into elegant lines.

Their pants are all baggy

Their t-shirts are grim

Some of them make their own vines.

My Mum says don’t worry.

She says that

I’ve just got to wait.

She says that we all just get through it.

It’ll all be alright

when I’m eight.