We All Know One.

At school you ran with slow soft strides
A smile upon your mocking lips
I pounded the earth till my arse fell off
And blew my lungs to bits
And you, you crossed the winning line
While I'd still half the race to go
And modestly you called yourself
A lucky so and so

B*****d!

I studied hard every single night
Sometimes till the dawn broke through
And I went to school with my eyes in my hand
(They'd fell out of my head at two)
You gave your books a passing glance
Ten minutes before the test
And then, head down, you'd done the lot
An hour before all the rest

B*****d!!

And so to work and so to climb
The ladder to the top
And I never went home for twenty years
So devoted was I to the job
I worked and slaved. Crossed every T
And every i had a dot
You married the bosses daughter
And copped for the bleeding lot!

B*****D!!!!!!!!!

Reviews

[Vertigo Cat1111]

Yes. This entire poem is just a ‘yes’. I rarely ever see people touch on this too often and it hits so, so close to home and you portrayed it wonderfully! That angrier and angrier ‘b*****d!!’ each time is so spot on and perfect. It shows how our anger builds up over time. Those people that are just good at it all with little to no hard work. Thank you so much for sharing this, it’s going straight into my favorites.(: I keep rereading it but can’t figure out what else to say. You happened to take the words right out of my mouth.

[Chris Shaw]

Ha Bryan. Yes, at school we had Probert, the boy from rainy Wales a genius with a photographic memory. I can remember how irritating we all thought he was. I loved your poem. So amusing and thought isn't that just sod's law for you? 😉

Chris