Lurking on the Back Row of Life


back-seat-of-the-bus

At school I always sat in the back row,
Ground down by their pointless rules.
Egged on by friend’s laughter
I easily learned to play the fool.

When forced on Sundays to attend church
At the back I’d yawn the service away.
Lounging in a pew, uncaring
My atheism defiantly on display.

On a bus I’d favour the back seat,
Stuffed full of chips and beer.
I’d lustily sing or craftily smoke
And at disapprovers sneer.

Now I lurk at the back out of habit
Full of gripes and moans.
Unable to move to the front at all
Hiding there my natural home.

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