A Child of Liverpool


I am a child of Liverpool, sixty years of age,
you gave me birth; you gave me life, through every awkward stage,
my schools were in this city, my friends and family same,
my roots are here, you moulded me, to the person I became.

I married in your buildings; I gave birth in Oxford Street,
the ‘Corpy’ gave me my first house, and helped me find my feet,
my sons’ attended City schools; they made their homes here too,
the ‘uni’ gave me my career; I owe a lot to you.

My parents rest in graveyards here and other family too,
never leaving Liverpool, it’s what they always knew,
the Mersey carried my son’s ashes, into the Irish Sea,
forever part of this fair land, a city son was he.

I am a ‘Face of Liverpool’; my image is in glass,
for all to see in Old Hall Street, long after I have passed,
an honour to my family, full of civic pride,
Ill be a part of Liverpool, long after I have died.

I am Liverpool, she is me, and she’s seen my lows and highs,
I’ve shared her pain, and she’s shared mine, through older fading eyes,
my roots are here, bound with many, which support my family tree,
at sixty, a child of Liverpool, and I guess I’ll always be.












I am a child of Liverpool, sixty years of age,
you gave me birth; you gave me life, through every awkward stage,
my schools were in this city, my friends and family same,
my roots are here, you moulded me, to the person I became.

I married in your buildings; I gave birth in Oxford Street,
the ‘Corpy’ gave me my first house, and helped me find my feet,
my sons’ attended City schools; they made their homes here too,
the ‘uni’ gave me my career; I owe a lot to you.

My parents rest in graveyards here and other family too,
never leaving Liverpool, it’s what they always knew,
the Mersey carried my son’s ashes, into the Irish Sea,
forever part of this fair land, a city son was he.

I am a ‘Face of Liverpool’; my image is in glass,
for all to see in Old Hall Street, long after I have passed,
an honour to my family, full of civic pride,
Ill be a part of Liverpool, long after I have died.

I am Liverpool, she is me, and she’s seen my lows and highs,
I’ve shared her pain, and she’s shared mine, through older fading eyes,
my roots are here, bound with many, which support my family tree,
at sixty, a child of Liverpool, and I guess I’ll always be.













By Pauline E Speak