Not At All Poem by John Carter Brown

I'm not at all what you'd call
'Very English', or posh,
I don't speak with an accent so rare;
My remit won't fall to a dance or a ball,
And I haven't got oceans of dosh
To spare;

I'm not at all very given
To boast of my place,
I can't stand keeping up with the Jones;
I don't feel, not at all, that I'm driven
To race, or make sure that I'm fitting my face
Or bones;

I'm not at all full of woes,
The reverse, I declare,
And can hold my head higher than snobs,
And to them one and all, I can turn up my nose,
Still, I wouldn't mind one of their
Jobs.

(Written Nov 2013)