A Sad, Old Fart Poem by John Thorkild Ellison

Somewhere, someplace, there must exist
Some sad, old fart who's never been kissed.
He dreams of all the chances he's missed
And those chances make a long, long list.
It's driving him right round the twist
So he wonders whether to slash his wrist.
They'd only fetch a psychiatrist
So he decides to go out and get pissed!
Down at the pub he meets a girl
And decides (at last!) to give it a whirl,
So he reaches down to pinch her bum
But she slaps his face for being so dumb!
In a fit of anger he starts a fight
Only to get thrown out in the night,
He wakes up sore and bruised in a ditch
And it's all because of that mean, young bitch!
'I've had enough! ' he says to himself,
'Forty odd years left on the shelf!
'It's enough to make a grown man weep
'So from this day I'm sticking to sheep! '
The moral is you must 'pluck the day'
Before all your luck has trickled away.