The 2.0 Version I’m Not
I wish my parents had built an upgraded version of me let’s call it the 2.0 selfish version
I wish they’d taught me to interrupt and shout louder
cover the world’s cacophony
that my views are important more right than anyone else’s in the room.
I don’t want to listen always nor ponder in impartial waters.
I want to see the world in black and white instead of always turning the coin over
to check the other side.
And why, oh why do I always give second chances, third and fourth?
I wish I did not feel tugs of guilt at each morsel thrown out.
I wish those wide eyes and distended bellies would not haunt my cupboards, nor air miles prevent me
buying sweet fruit I know I’d love.
I wish I’d never been introduced to Patience, Prudence and Humility,
three hags who’ve slaked my appetite to win, murdered my ambition,
till faintest rumours of boasting make me laugh and shiver.
Yet disdain is all fine and good.
No one cares, disdained by me.
Adulated by masses, emboldened by success,
they fail, repeat, never learn, except to repent no more.
While I nurse, bruised and battered, an ego like an unboiled egg,
integrity left orphan in a world where I no longer belong.