Johnny was a schoolboy,
Now Johnny’s not at school.
He didn’t put a helmet on.
He thought it wasn’t cool.
He’s lying in a coma
He might not wake again.
He bullseyed on a windscreen
And bruised his schoolboy brain.
If Johnny could, he’d tell you,
“Don’t do like I did:
Protect your thinking noggin box!
Please put on a lid.”
Ali 
Loved this. You have a very easy way with poetry, Ali.
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That’s kind, Craig. I’m no John Betjeman, but I do agree with him that poetry is not a luxury, but a necessity – ‘the oil of life’. I used to know I wasn’t good enough to write poetry, and only lately realised it doesn’t matter whether we’re ‘good enough’ – we can just enjoy writing! I stopped trying to judge. For this poem, though, I have only one ambition – and that is that the boys and girls I see cycling to school put on a helmet! Too few wear them still…
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