Only Me

The stork was misdirected when
I was born; I should have been
one of the titled gentlemen
with wealth approaching the obscene.

The foolish bird delivered me.
By malice or by accident
into the sort of family
not known to the establishment.

Although my instincts are refined
befitting an aristocrat.
When I grew up I was to find
my father was no plutocrat.

So I was forced to earn my crust
like any other working man.
No wide estates were held in trust.
That wretched bird fouled up the plan.

I should have been a titled man
a scion of nobility.
But one must do the best one can
although ones born to poverty

The only title I can claim
is that I am a gentleman.
I’ll never be a household name.
Though I am proud to say I can

do anything a duke can do.
Except sit in the House of Lords.
I do not think I would want to
be bound to follow their accords.

An independent gentleman
is what I am content to be.
Although the stork messed up the plan
I must accept I’m only me.

(5-Nov-07)

poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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