I remember them days br back in the school yard br started bored, scraping my rubber soles br On the hard, rough, dirty black tarmac. br br It would be 8.55 a.m. br I was in school first br the sweet tunes of the birds' songs br amplified in every corner of the yard br br it was a wide square br with low walls on one side br following a trail up to the sports shed br door and front walls made by my father br br someone would hide the torn br ripped sponge balls soaking br up the rain it rolled through br hidden in an isolated prickly bus br br with the principal relaxing, drinking coffee br making his breath stench br like blue bread br we'd take out the ball and play br br many times the principal took the balls br but we'd soon be loaded again like a gun br playing football against the office wall br almost a morning routine. br br At lunch the jokes were shared br playing games football again br and the mayhem arose br teachers getting into scraps br br with students writing about them br on t-shirts, principal's br face poppy red anger rushing through br the pulsating veins br br there were fights oh Lord they were br two messers two families br from different backgrounds whatever really br nothing was the biggest br br their sizes or the fights br but it's the little things that br peck away like woodpeckers at the back br of my mind. br br Them memories br stuck to me like glue, br those times br back in the school yard.br br A.J.