PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Who am I?

I don't know,

But the colours on your flag mean nothing to me,

I'm not impressed by your ability to ski,

Or the fact that your MG was paid for by Daddy,

Who now owns his third chain of McD's.



Who am I?

I'm not very sure,

But the amount of times you can pull that whore,

I'm not impressed by, or your ability to drink more,

Or the fact that no matter how many times your mate tries to score,

Who remains at the top of his kingdom?

[This kingdom for a whore].



Who am I?

I know you don't give a fuck,

But you're bragging to me about how well you can suck,

I'm not impressed that your tits are huge 'just by luck',

Or the fact that your dancemoves make the men wanna fuck.

Who signed their self respect away to his little black book?



Not me.



Who aren't I?

Now this one I can answer,

I'm not a whore, a false friend or a chancer,

A weasel, a suck-up or a fake romancer,

I didn't sell my soul to the cancer,

I refuse to be a dancer,

To your beat.

Get back to the street.

I'm not you.

I'm me.

Whomever that might be.