I laughed at most’f my seizures
Well what else would I do?
Crying would solve nothing
And I had quite a few.
When I worked in a Builders firm
A private enclosed yard,
They knew my ‘disadvantage’
But found I did work hard.
My dad, had worked there previously
Knew well the old M.D.
So he was able to pull strings
And got the job for me.
Whenever it was needed
The forklift truck I’d drive
It could’ve been their detriment
But thankful, did survive.
Picture, please the scene here
A large inverted U
Three stores, ‘round sand and gravel
Doors opposite on two
The other storemen busy,
At bottom end of yard
So I was asked to drive fork truck
I'd drove before, not hard.
Driving up between stores
T’ward sand and gravel piles
Turning left into the store
With boxed ceramic tiles.
Now Ernie, my old foreman
He was a ‘hands on’ guy,
Was keeping watchful eye on me
In case things went awry
I had placed many pallets
Into the store by now,
When seizures, they did strike again,
Things turned out fine, somehow.
Instead of turning left to store,
Ernie, a-front sand pile,
I continued onwards
Against my usual style.
I would have loved to see this,
To witness it first hand,
Ernie scrambling backwards
Up mounds of grit and sand.
I recall not a moment
Of what was happening,
I didn’t hear him screaming,
I witnessed not, the scene.
He’d screamed for some assistance
To get me off fork truck,
I still can recall NONE of it,
On his side, there was luck
I came back to reality
In office in the store,
My head on arms atop workspace,
Could be seen, - open door.
I raised my head ‘pon wakening,
A fellow store-man seen,
Asked me “How are you feeling?”
I asked how things had been.
He told me what had happened
The antics I’d applied
“You didn’t get it videoed?”
I laughed when he replied.
Was banned from driving fork-truck
’Til no one else to ask,
And Ernie NEEDED something
Brought down from stacking racks
He asked "how are you feeling?"
What he wanted, I knew,
“Where will YOU be standing?”
“WELL away from you”
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