It Just Isn't Fair! Poem by Mark Heathcote

Childhood -seen reflected through a train window.
Can -be a sad affair—even if your designation?  
Takes you somehow to a sunny seaside resort.

That has donkey rides with jingling silver bells—
Or even a funfair, with a twisting roller coaster
And words like -it just isn't fair
Generally, they crop up out of thin air.

As the train chugs along, you resent being young.
You begrudge being a part of the luggage.
You resent someone else being in charge.
Not just of you but also of your destination.