Lamentations of a Failing Ego

It happens more and more as time goes by

and sometimes it could make an old bloke cry.

You get on the train and there’s no empty seat

but you spy a cute chick who you’d like to meet.

Then she’ll get up and offer her seat you see,

‘cos you’re an “old bloke” she can plainly see.

And what do you do for a poor old bloke,

ya kick him in the ego, don’t give it a stroke.

With ego deflated you accept her gift

even though in your spirit there is a rift.

‘Cos to be quite honest, at end of day

the old bones are weary anyway

and what would you do with a hot young chick;

ya can’t burn the candle if you can’t light the wick.

About a foolhardy florilegium

Nullius addictus iurare in verba magistri, quo me cumque rapit tempestas, deferor hospes.
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