Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Tony Mitton

Grown Out Of

Grown Out Of

Grown Out Of

My trousers are tight.
They just won’t fit.

And my jumper?
I’ve grown out of it.

My shirt’s too short.
It just won’t do.

There are holes in my socks
where my toes peep through.

So it’s lucky I don’t
grow out of my skin.

‘Cos then there’d be nothing
to put me in.
Close

Grown Out Of

My trousers are tight.
They just won’t fit.

And my jumper?
I’ve grown out of it.

My shirt’s too short.
It just won’t do.

There are holes in my socks
where my toes peep through.

So it’s lucky I don’t
grow out of my skin.

‘Cos then there’d be nothing
to put me in.

Grown Out Of

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