Next Year

Next year I would fly like a turbojet;

Hold it, show skills like a super footballer

Making sure a goal is every kick at the net –

The crowd everywhere must holler and holler.

I’d be an eagle swooping for a kill;

My antics would leave the audience with a thrill;

I’d drop all those gimcrack friends – I’d be real;

To all obnoxious habits, I’d say nil.

But how do I say ‘No!’ to my dawdle?

Would I stop shifting blame but firm on my hustle?