That’s it, I cried in anger.
My fist slammed on the desk.
Intolerable is what it is,
Offensively grotesque.
Why seek to scale the giddy heights?
Why work to lift mankind?
Why be ignored, my spirit gored,
My nobleness declined?
A slight upon the artistry
Of a witty ditty wonder.
Pushed aside with dented pride.
A shameful Royal blunder.
But next year may be different,
This setback, just a smidge.
A Knighthood’s surely coming,
So I mustn’t burn a bridge.
© Copyright Philip Barton, July 5th, 2025, All rights reserved
