Amendy's Eyes

A heartfelt story about my tiny childhood troubles.

Amendy is mad today because she can’t find her friend

Her mom braids her hair so tight it doesn’t curl up at the end

When she gets the chance to run and hide she does it pretty well

She grabs a pencil from her bag but it’s not for her to spell

She takes her braid and wraps it round so easily it seems

But when the funky led gets too close her eye begins to sting

She hardly screams, she cannot look, it hurts her so bad

Amendy wonders where, who or how she’ll get carried to her dad

Her dad is very good, he’s made her many tents and forts

So when her eye gets hurt she just starts to cry and snort

She knows he’ll find her soon because she does it pretty well

It worked the last time she was at school when she kind of slipped and fell

She hugs her knees with one arm and keeps her head up

She knows if she can stay standing they send someone who’s rough

They might say “It’s okay, Amendy. You don’t have to close both eyes.”

And while she’s crying they stand her up like she’s one of those big guys

They don’t get it, they can’t see the way her dad just makes it up

He tells her “Amendy, there’s a van in the street spreading sand and rocks like dust.”

She has to keep her butt on the floor so that she can see straight,

Her dad has to pick her up because she has not been to grade eight

On a normal day at school she doesn’t cause a scene

So the teacher better let her go without turning so mean

Amendy doesn’t listen she just keeps both eyes shut

Because she knows the teacher loves saying “Amendy, it doesn’t hurt that much.”