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Self made Man

Alas alack and woe is me
My life is filled with misery
I loved a lass who loved not me
She treated me disdainfully.

She saw herself as upper class
And much superior to me.
A barrier I could not pass.
A subtle form of cruelty.

But time moves on and so did I
I went to university
Where somewhat different rules apply
You’re judged on your ability.

I earned a double first degree.
I studied politics and law
So I was qualified to be
What I decided either or.

My tutor recommended me
to several of his well placed friends.
Who he felt quite probably
Would use me to suit their own ends

I became a secretary
To a rising star in politics
Who chose to place his trust in me.
To cover up his dirty tricks.

I managed this successfully.
He taught me more than what he thought.
Although I served him loyally
I knew much more than what I ought.

Eventually he sponsored me
to be his party’s candidate.
I was elected as M.P
Then all I had to do was wait.

For the right opportunity.
To demonstrate what I could do.
Show my potentiality
To the elite, the favoured few.

The men who held the power to
Promote me or to hold me back.
I paid respect where it was due
and very soon I was on track.

To realise my ambition.
To be a junior minister.
Perhaps in education
or something rather similar.

I knew enough to toe the line
Without appearing threatening
And soon a junior post was mine.
Which in itself was heartening.

I was quite sure I could secure
all the support that I would need.
To land myself a sinecure
I had no doubt I would succeed

I had recorded secretly
The dirty tricks that they had played.
And told them confidentially
About records I had made.

I soon acquired cabinet rank.
My erstwhile mentor taught me well
Although his methods sometimes stank
I learnt as I endured the smell

I am the minister for trade
I travel everywhere first class
My only job is to persuade
The members of the working class

I have their interests at heart
It’s not an easy thing to do.
My lies are truly works of art
They sound as if they could be true.

I never promise anything.
But they are convinced that I do
I am well used to public speaking
They believe ‘cos they want to.

That is the art of politics.
If you can fake sincerity.
And conceal your dirty tricks.
Then you are where you ought to be.

The public now do not believe
That M.P.s have integrity
Who earn respect they don’t receive.
I do not let that worry me.

I shall receive my knighthood soon
And then retire from public life.
Nobody can prick my balloon
Although rumours may be rife.

There is no concrete evidence
That anybody can provide
I can say that with confidence
No one can prove that I ever lied.

I only claimed what I was due.
I made quite sure to follow rules.
The claims I made were always true
Unlike the other greedy fools.

I will retire with dignity
With my integrity intact
At least it will appear to be
although it may not be in fact.

Appearances are all that count.
In the modern world today.
You never hear the true account
Which people know but dare not say.

Sunday,18 September 2011
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Added by Poetry Lover
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