The Ode Clichéby Caron Rider
A far cry from all and sundrythat is the born loser.
By and large each and every day
he uses determination.
He uses brute force.
He is down and out.
On the spot with hat in hand,man to man he learns the facts of life.
And rain or shine, the powers that be
attempt to wrest from him a square meal.
Sooner or later past his salad days,
almost at the eleventh hour,
life seems as the sour grapes.
With him it’s touch and go.And by the time he can smell a rat
the sad awakening has begun;
the naïve has become worldly wise.
Therefore, step by step,
his is a dog’s life.
While attempting to gild the lily,the true blue go up in arms
and set off a hue and cry.
But though he values their judgment,
all cannot be well and good.
So when they shout, “Hold the fort!”
He returns with, “Hold your own!”
Mark my words, to pay the piper
takes a lion’s share to make good.
Now or never the rank amateur
must pull the strings of life.
So in a nutshell or in a word,
we all must be to live and learn.