It sucks so much to be you,
to be an unhappy unwanted soul,
a mark of shame for anyone,
you are nobody’s goal,
no one ever aims for you,
because the three before give recognition,
all you give is a plastic trophy,
as consolation, to make the kid who’s crying shut up.
In the Olympics no one wants to end up
where you are, because then it will bring
endless criticism from a nation
that cares about their athletes,
once every four years.
At school you were my worst nightmare,
but now I have come to terms with this.
After all, if you are what I deserve,
I will make do with this
stupid goddamned chocolate bar,
because I made it to very near an award.
You are like a terrible date,
no rewards, but then,
at least I tried.


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