Autobiography

Autobiography.

I started an autobiography;

A tale of what I as a boy went through,

But by the first paragraph, I could see,

It would be of no interest to you,

Unless you want to hear a sad old fool’s

Reminiscences of reluctant fights,

Nasty teachers, crap secondary schools,

Exam failures, bullies, sleepless nights,

Vandalism, boredom, aggravation,

Suicidal feelings, blood, broken glass

Beatings, bullshit, put downs, hesitation,

And being a total pain in the arse,

Frustrated, confused and angst-ridden youth;

An everyday kid, to tell you the truth.

But history is a malleable thing,

Fair often moulded beyond all recall;

Whether a beggar, queen, pauper or king,

The same rules apply for one and for all:

When writing an autobiography,

If one doesn’t wish to do ones’ self-down,

The glory should outweigh the infamy,

The hero should overshadow the clown,

The tome should be brimming with greatness’s;

Sagacious quotations worthy of stone,

Predestined for share-worthy statuses,

Via a tablet, laptop, or smartphone,

And I share these pearls of wisdom because,

The older I get, the better I was.