Popinjay

There he goes again trying to pump up the small crowd in a shrill voice that could be irritatingly loud; he talks too much and always likes to have the last word, wanting people to believe each story he told. He’s a super achiever, at least in his own mind, born with an inflated ego, he’s one of a kind; he comes in rather strong and oh too pretty fast yet in the end finishes up biting the dust! He’d lost too many fights that he claims he really won, he lives in a mansion his moneyed wife built and owns; he could not wait to answer the bell for the next round, with nary an idea where he is actually bound. Come election time he will run for a position and for the _th time it will be his damnation; again he’ll lose due to lack of name recognition, not to mention lack of electoral intuition. The grapevine says he is a trained but failed barrister who managed to fumble all his cases everywhere, who, while his own peers are galloping straight ahead, is lagging far way behind, a certified egghead. I feel so sorry for the poor dude, I really am, sad that he turned into a laughingstock, a village bum; but that’s just the way things are in life sometimes, I guess, either you get lucky or end up a complete mess. Who is this insufferable popinjay, you say? Ah, he could be you, me or just about anybody!