His Mother Was Right
He was told he was gifted at an age of ten,
Gifted in every subject that he had.
His mum said he would become a prodigy,
He would be an intellectual nomad.
Shifted to the next year group sitting on a throne,
He expected never to be beat.
Expecting people to know he was always right,
Becoming a false cerebral athlete.
But then he left school for uni. and a hurdle,
The hurdle: study, falling fast, falling hard.
The next ten years a turmoil of fails,
No worship, only honesty, honesty that scarred.
Now he’s a know it all bricklayer,
Building taj mahal, in the back of people’s homes.
Preaching his righteous proclamations,
Proudly preaching to the fairies and gnomes.
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