School Reunion.

I heard it through the grapevine,
The class of seventy~three.
Are holding a school reunion,
Well they'll no' be seeing me.
I know they all will miss me,
That wee, shy, dumpy lass.
So good for poking fun at,
And belting, on the grass.
No, nothing will possess me,
To meet with my old class.
My schooldays were a millstone,
So this, I think, I'll pass.

by Lizzy Tomlinson

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