We who breathe are oft inclined
To be of less than perfect mind
And, in such state, to raise a fuss
About how fortune frowns on us
For we have all our limbs and eyes,
Have yet to meet a grim demise,
Have bellies full and blankets warm
And lives absent from grievous harm,
Have water fresh on every street
And fertile earth beneath our feet.
We fear no predatory foe,
And yet our hearts are filled with woe;
We see our neighbor’s joy and sigh,
“They have a bit more stuff than I…”
I’m very proud if my teammate, Ted
Who always… ALWAYS… Gets out of bed.
You really proud of my teammate, Ben,
Who almosy always gets a few out of ten.
I’m really proud of my teammate Jon,
Who really has improved a ton.
But I’m noy proud of my teammate Rick.
Our MVP… What a dick!
I can curl your locks,
Give you mohawks,
A buzz cut, bowl, or mullet.
But when I see your hair
What I really care
To do is grab and pull it.
Though long and lustrous
Is your hair
I have no envy.
I just don’t care.
I am not jealous
Of your locks,
But I dearly wish
I had your buttocks.