I hate rum.

As much as I’d like to pretend

I am not a confident man

I fall into the trap of believing

that I am more than my share

find myself in situations

of most comical despair

parties and karaoke nights

I am too shy to attend

that I go to anyway

because I am loath to say no

because ‘no’ means ‘weakness’

and weakness doesn’t befit a man of my bulk

so I sit there, and I wonder

if ever I will be confident enough

to live in a world that I’d like to live in

just then, somebody offers me rum

and I politely accept.

I hate rum.


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