Lent, Lending, Fear and Favour

 

I am what I am and I’m living,

I do what I want when I can,

I’m here as the son of this nation,

I’m wholly the whole son of man.

 

I’ll wear what I want, nothing formal,

No tie and no iron in sight,

Odd socks and always with trainers,

And jeans that are really too tight. 

 

Bright fluffy dice in my windscreen,

An air horn to shudder the street.

Dark tinted glass and red mirrors,

A boom box to pound out the beat.

 

A Staffie to use as a weapon,

I’ll give it a good name like ‘Scud’,

Or even a psychotic pit-bull,

Now that would be equally good.

 

Smoking a joint while I’m drinking,

A good way of spending my dole,

The bookie my friend in the high-street,

Wants spending quite out of control.

 

I’d phone up my best pay lender,

Though I’ve not got payday in sight,

At a thousand or so percent interest,

It’s a tunnel without any light.

 

A burger a day from McDonuts.

So much for avoiding the fat,

At least double fries with my order,

And what is your problem with that.

 

You say I’ve made all my life choices,

It’s was easy to see what’s ahead,

A lifetime of planned self destruction,

But hopefully soon I’ll be dead.

 

I could give up my life’s only pleasures,

But there’s nothing in life really good,

Perhaps I should hide in the shadows,

And I know that you think that I should.

 

It may be you had some advantage,

It may be you worked to succeed,

It may be you got what you wanted,

It may be I see just your greed.

 

For here at the end I am your brother,

Though I am black or disabled or worse,

I’m not of your race or religion,

In fact I’m the words in your curse.