Comments about Andy Brookes
I'm Only Human
I work my fingers to the bone,
And I know I shouldn't moan.
Not get upset about my work,
If criticised by some jerk.
It's sad to say, my skin is thin,
Tough exterior, soft within.
I try so not to let it hurt,
When hit by a poem expert.
I know I have a lot to learn,
But cruel remarks, they just burn.
And you know I have no fear,
Of ever becoming like Shakespeare.
I write just whims, airy fancies,
Which people stab with their lances.
With their thrusts they put me down,
Making me feel like a clown.
But be it good or be it ...
A Bald Man's Lament
When I was young and just a lad,
A lovely mop of hair I had.
Of sturdy growth, there was no lack,
Thick and red and all swept back.
I really thought that I looked swell
Dressed and styled, all slicked with gel.
I would swagger down the street
Admiring glances from all I'd meet.