Thou didst not *******
I came of my own accord
now you tell me that you're bored
how can I improve on my sweet Lord

Thou art a ruffian - unskilled in the
art of *******, no tantric ***
more like Titanic with a hex
I always know what's coming next

Who wrote my script and said that:
I wouldst love you no matter what?
maybe it was you more likely than not
I must be thankful, pretend with what I've got

Now thou art coming again - never mind my pain
why is it that my loss has to be your gain?

There is nothing you can do, we're as good as you,
we will progress forwards, whatever you may do;
I joined the army, they all looked at my figure,
I'm used to it - the silly things we have to endure.

We have a reproductive system, child bearing hips,
but now I'm wearing epaulettes with three red pips;
I'm crawling through mud, even might put down a 'try,'
they can't take it - 'Isn't she just supposed to be a guy?'

So what of the future - maybe we'll be playing the men,
not possible - otherwise things will never be same again;
God made us to be in company but sarge says it's misogyny,
don't tell me that you're not bothered, I am who I want to be.

It's time for you to 'man up' because things are changing,
to be accommodating with your thoughts rearranging.

I'll be staying as someone else so there,
not reincarnation, you'll find me somewhere;
so I won't need any assistance they say,
my secret's safe ready to live another day.

They told me when I was eighty years,
took away doubt and any dying fears;
you may ask who was ''they,' anyway -
that's just not for you to know finally.

Won't you miss family and friends, no - gone,
memory conveniently removed - all done;
will you start as a baby or a grown man?
You'll never know, it's not part of the plan.

However, veil may lift - I still see you from afar,
raise a smile, how would you like a new avatar?

He was thrown out (notice 'he'), the fallen angel,
alongside a Judas who three times before he fell;
so from out of animosity came goodness it would seem
that we can have decency without evil we will redeem.

Someone said that you can't have the good without bad,
which is nonsense, you have that mindset - you must be sad;
that athlete race - only one winner it was said past the gate,
you missed the point because all participants were great.

Now St.Nicholas gives you joy - that's what we want,
not all this ideological rhetoric going off at a tangent;
the tree of knowledge was unnecessary, a silly lure,
temptation, we circumvent, enfold those who aren't sure.

Let's enjoy our gifts, best wishes to all, nothing we lack,
evil superseded, new job because Lucifer you've got the sack!

That's what Richard said because summer was coming
and his brother Edward was on the throne to begin;
mine is different, not giving kingdom for a horse,
I'm taller, no cloak, things have changed of course.

I'm cast adrift, rudderless, wondered where it would end,
a few miles from my hometown which wasn't a godsend,
strange, if you knew you might pull a few strings to alter,
if Richard got that horse it might have bolted into hereafter.

The choices we had, so many and we threw them all away,
but not 'threw' - we knew what we were doing didn't we?
engineered, although outcome could evolve to become weird,
should have known that not all was as easy as it appeared.

No matter, tis done, maybe predilection,, self-inflicted pain,
ironic, if second chance, would do exactly same things again.

Supposing that you didn't need to be terminal, is there a queue?
The cop-out brigade would be cashing in - all the others too;
we've had enough, not only illness but silliness and mindless,
lack of care, selfishness and all those who couldn't worry less.

Could reduce the population, no worry about copulation,
have ten kids if you want, economics, spell it with a 'C' decision;
clear the housing list, no one's bothered if you even get ******,
so convenient,Trumps kissed, played last hand in knock-out whist.

The queue is mounting outside that room in Switzerland mon ami,
I'm fed  up with my life, I'm going before you can sentence me,
how ironic, free up the prisons, no need for any more decisions,
although cemeteries filling, keep my ashes unless other visions.

The ultimate in democracy, free will, but others moaning still,
there's a waiting list, might die before I die - on Calvary Hill.