A Voice From The Back (Poetry)

Here we all stand
at the back of the queue
where we’ve pretty-much been
all our lives
waiting politely
for something to give
while the dutiful child
still survives

Rebellion surfaces
in a bold few
who jostle and push
for a place
while the rest of us sigh
and shuffle our feet
substitutes in
life’s marathon race

One or two
make a break for it
stick fingers up
to the rules
high achievers
who don’t give a fig
for others not privy
to such old-boy schools
or streetwise become
something big

Posh city or slum
little towns-by-the-sea
there are queues everywhere
it’s a fact
but good manners mean nothing
when push comes to shove
it’s the fool
wastes his life
at the back