allthegearno Posted February 18, 2009 Share Posted February 18, 2009 I was at Wybourne school it the late sixties not sure of exact dates but i was bourn in 1957 the one thing that i remember was the carbolic soap used in the toilets one smell of wrights coal tar soap takes me right back there Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
LAGGERMAN Posted February 18, 2009 Share Posted February 18, 2009 Lobby email me beermonst1@aol.com ill let you know my name then Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
coyleys Posted February 18, 2009 Share Posted February 18, 2009 Anyone remember the school and pupils id like to hear from you i left in 1967 Yep! I went there; left Wybourn school in 1968, lived on Maltravers Cres, for some 20 years, then about 3 years on Wybourn house Rd, and then my parole came through. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
coyleys Posted February 18, 2009 Share Posted February 18, 2009 It may, now sound a bit condescending, but these were my thoughts back in the dark days. I have since mellowed, and now realise, they were hard times but good times. Reflections of Wybourn School Building so bleak, so cold and grey. Try as we may to stay away. Compulsory attendance was forced upon. By rulers so draconian. Corporal punishment the order of the day In reward for obedience, such a cliché. Such dogma alone the cause to rebel No incentive at all to make one excel The slash of the cane the sting of the slipper The smile on the face of the one who delivers Illiterate our destiny from point of birth Our mark not to make upon this earth I reflect on life that may have been And of the great difference I may have seen Had we not been meek and so poor A scholar of poetry of that I’m sure. But back down to earth, I am what I am And to fight ignorance as best I can The austerity of life so cold and cruel With innocence of youth we let them rule. But one day we know our turn will come And make a vow, our seed not to succumb Parental nature, being to learn from our past And give them knowledge, knowledge to last. And so we go to our maker, blessed in thought Our children are safe, in the way that we taught No longer the stigma we have to conceal That, we take to our grave, and never to reveal. © Mick Coyle Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Joto Posted February 19, 2009 Share Posted February 19, 2009 That poem was excellent Mick Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
LAGGERMAN Posted February 19, 2009 Share Posted February 19, 2009 Hiya mick i remember you bloody hell sound like frank ifield now Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
coyleys Posted February 19, 2009 Share Posted February 19, 2009 Hi ya Laggerman, you have me at a disadvantage, so who is behind the masquerade? Glad you liked it Joto, the feelings are a bit dated now. I must have been going through my egotistical period. The poem is only reflective of the school and not the pupils, as they were a great bunch of lads and lasses. The only teacher I miss, would be Finchy, he was the best thing since sliced bread. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
bazmanau Posted February 20, 2009 Share Posted February 20, 2009 Hi Mike Still freezin the nuts off. Barry Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
LAGGERMAN Posted February 20, 2009 Share Posted February 20, 2009 Hiya mick my name is robert boyce i knocked around with tony gill david shemeld john tazziman Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
coyleys Posted February 20, 2009 Share Posted February 20, 2009 Hi Mike Still freezin the nuts off. Barry Hi ya Barry Well, at least I'm not burning my nuts off. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Recommended Posts
Create an account or sign in to comment
You need to be a member in order to leave a comment
Create an account
Sign up for a new account in our community. It's easy!
Register a new accountSign in
Already have an account? Sign in here.
Sign In Now