Chel, is always on the lookout for new contributions of which she requires a g-ish rating (with which I sometimes struggle) and a laugh (which I try to provide but never really know if it’s a laugh with me, or at me).
Today she wanted a rant – and I genuinely planned an amusing tale about my paranoid distrust of a world that has left me behind, but it took a turn of its own and ended up at an unexpected destination. So it’s not very good and it’s not very funny.
But here it is.
*
My letter to the editor
The poison of my pen
Comes from harboured grudges
That date to way back when
The world seemed sort of organised
But I was never planned
They never saw me coming
And they’ll never understand
My letter to the editor
The measure of my scorn
Reflects a life that went downhill
From the moment I was born
My mother’s strains, the labour pains
My first sight of the nurse
Into the world, my life unfurled
Then things got so much worse.
My letter to the editor
Please find my mum and dad
And tell them of the consequence
Of good times that they had
Remind them of their coupling
Their drunken naked dance
I didn’t have a say in it
I never had a chance
My letter to the editor
Please let the postman bring
My complaints of this and that
Complaints of everything
Bad tidings of my life alone
Of which I never had a say
Please forward this to mum and dad
Then make them go away
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