Fit For The Job

Why did you make me so shit, Lord?

Why did you make me so lame?

Sorry for sounding ungrateful

but there's nobody else I can blame.

Why did you not make me perfect?

Tall, dark and handsome and strong,

with genitals like a rhinoceros,

would it really have been so wrong?

Why did you not give me genius?

Or charm? Or charisma? Or grace?

Or courage? Or good DIY skills?

Would it have been that out of place?

Why did you never inspire me

to write a hit novel or tune?

Or to stick a dead shark in formaldehyde?

Would that be asking the moon?

You must understand at this juncture

it's not for myself I complain,

but being a failure fails everyone else

and that's what's tormenting my brain.

So why did you make me so shit, Lord?

So ineffectual a knob.

I could have been such a great geezer

if you'd made me fit for the job.

Tony Thorpe