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He is the punch line,

the rhyming couplet of every sonnet

he’s pithy, pointed, a smug and smackass Jack

he knows it all, been there before

always certain to raise some

eyebrows - or some guffaws


He has opinions

deft and witty, well thought out

and up to date

with all the latest shmooze

straight from Google and

the daily news


His views are culled

from sources

quite impeccable

and are sure

to end all discussions

at their height with

‘yes – we’re sure you’re right’


And yet when wakened

in the night

by some unpleasant dream

a thought, a noise,

a pang, a pain

reminding of mortality again


He’s just a frightened child

waiting for dawn or mother’s calming hand

to soothe away anxiety

so he can stride once more

arrogant and cock-sure

into yet another bumptious day

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© Johnmichael Simon



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