Walter Mitty's Sister Poem by James S Newcomb Lang

Gemma lived in a world of her own
Where she played the leading role
A raconteur of the first degree
But with a darkened austere soul!

As seeing herself as immeasurable
Within her own minds eye
She lived each day in her fantasies
Where her inner thoughts could fly

For she'd hark back with conviction
And an extraordinary guile
Imparting tales of her amazing life
With aplomb, but a saddened smile

Recounting her time in the battle zones
In the deserts of southern Iraq
And how she'd saved yet more lives
In Helmand while under attack

And of her dedication to duty
To the injured, dead and dying
And for repatriating the fallen
Whilst stopping herself from crying

She'd proudly ware the medals she'd won
For the countless lives she'd saved
With selfless unflinching commitment
Through bombs and bullets she'd braved

Vicariously living her life everyday
She made a bid to career assail
Writing a passionate personal statement
Adding qualifications she'd need to avail

Convinced by her own deception
She continued to profess her lie
To all her colleagues and friends alike
So we have to question why?

As all of her purported daring deeds
Were just figments of imagination
Recycling stories that she'd heard
With twists of her own creation

For she'd developed a chronic condition
A mythomania she just couldn't stop
As every time she opened her mouth
She had to watch every jaw drop

As she'd fabricated qualifications
And her sagas were just well spun
Conjuring myths out of all proportion
To anything she'd actually done!

So the moral in telling this story
Is that truth is always the best
Work hard and with quiet dedication
To ride on every waves crest

As nobody likes to be lied to
Especially by a colleague or friend
As honesty and facts are required
From the people on whom you depend