Curve Ball from a Straight Arm

Poem

Photo by Jan Zikán on Unsplash

How I wish I was a rebel,
I’d woad up and storm around the hills,
Nude but for my battle blue,
I’d take on all the nation’s ills,
My personal magna carta
rolled up underneath my arm,
I’d be shrieking my displeasure
and announcing my demands,
I’d cry for revolution
without a stutter or a pause,
Gathering up my kinfolk,
To maraud and take what’s ours,
But there’s something dark
Within my genes that I
don’t think I can purge,
I’m a stickler for convention
and I seek the status quo,
I’m not out for the plunder,
The blue dye is just for show,
I’ll take a minute to tidy up
and then be on my way,
I guess the revolution
will have to wait another day.