Metamorphosis - Resubmitted

Our gang was the fiercest on the estate.
Smiling wasn’t permitted because to grin
was seen as socialising with the enemy
and that was worse than a mortal sin.

But we could sneer to show contempt
and greeted each other with high fives.
We were against the urban bourgeoisie,
determined to bring fear into their lives.

We were rebels in everything we did:
to dress formally wasn’t for us the norm,
but to wear jeans and Doc Martens boots
ceased to be original, became a uniform.

The black boots looked fine but had to be
hobnailed and have a reinforced toe-cap.
We had a reputation but it was just a bluff;
yet ever so often we had to take the rap.

In those days I was called by abusive names:
yob, hooligan, roughneck and even wanker.
I now have a pin stripe suit and a bowler hat,
I am a reformed person and am a City banker.