Whole Grain Thinker

After I'm gone,

the world won't mourn me.

But I'm not forlorn, be-

cause the few who knew the man,

who I tried to be,

forgave me (for my 'also ran').

Nobody's perfect,

I've heard many propose.

In their comatose

pursuance of 'who gives a fuck',

they foul the paths and roads.

Sole destroyers (man, does that suck!)

Grumpy old git.

Is that what I've become?

Just a meddlesome

old man with nothing more to do

than spoil all the fun?

Lawks-a-mercy! (tell me it ain't true)

A whole grain thinker,

a tinker of words,

kicking over magic turds.

Looking for what? Lies - beneath

which stagnation girds

the imagination (like a sterile sheath)

[A quick aside,

Before you read the last,

"My sweet 'backside'",

Pronounce it ass not arse]

That's my nutshell,

Job done, I'm self-assessed.

"Well, he did his best"

Not the utmost peak of epitaphs?

So write this on my chest:

"His goal was to split the wits from the chavs"

Posted via email from Jo S Wun on Posterous