Some of it may rhyme... same of it won't- as you may observe I do not wish to emphasize a particular format. Just wish to get the point across.
By the by- Wuss is defined as A person regarded as weak or timid and especially as unmanly. (Being gay is something else completely)- In layman's terms- a wuss could be defined as a 'scary cat' or a 'scary chicken'. Puk-Pukaaaak!
"Cats are for wusses, dog men say" (Laura Blumenfeld).
'HUH??.. You know what laura-you can just FUCK OFF!'Am I wuss?- A poem by me.
Am I wuss?
Is the question today.
Why..what or who is a wuss... you might say.
Well..plenty of reasons one might give...
Jeez.. Plenty of reasons give you the right to live.
But when you're a wuss destiny plays turns
Tests you, challenges you and makes your tummy churn.
Ok.. I'll be the first one to put my hand up...
And own up..
to the fact..
That I hate getting any injuries or disease.
I hate going to the hospital or paying the doc hefty fees.
I hate seeing my blood..
It renders an emotional flood..
One so difficult to comprehend..
But alas! You're termed as a WUSS in the end.
One tiny cut..
And you run with your hands on your butt..
And scream like a girl..
But hey now-you're getting knickers into a twirl.
Does that mean girls have a right to scream when they get hurt?
Or is it bad to SCREAM when you get skiddled with dirt..
Who defines you as a wussy in that circumstance?
And what is their level of tolerance if they get beat up by chance?
God forbid..
But that had to be said.
Coz I dislike people making definitions..
I'd like to make it a full stop-that's my proposition.
Yes, I like to take care of my body parts..
Barring aside the junk food and the tarts..
That's a different issue dude..
Please now let's not get into a feud.
The problem with me I hate getting cuts,Bruises, scars or Burns..
But you're a man now and it's your turn!
But then again I point out this vicious circle..
Am I less of a man if I don't like getting blue and purple?
My answer is nope..
My endurance and patience may be higher in different levels..
Hell I can walk for miles and miles-an activity I revel..
And I can climb stairs faster than a fox..
And lift weights mightier than an Ox..
(Haven't seen a bullock lift dumbells yet.. But still)
Chill..
And talk nonsense for hours and hours..
And write pure drivel for lines and lines..
Just to get my point across...just to make it SHINE.
You see I like to take care of this health of mine..
God has blessed me with health so fine..
Why should I blow it all away on the line?
I'm not in the Army which has it's own risks..
I'm not a magician doing dangerous sword tricks..
I work in hospitality..
Hell...Coz of that I ain't going to a hospital.
No thanks!
So you see-my endurance is in a different zone..
About the injuries here-by this poem a trumpet is blown.
Yes, I dislike getting hurt..
And what's wrong with that?-I'd like to assert.
This poem comes from a recent BURN..
A point of my life where it took a turn..
Oh.. don't be worried..it's only a small one.
Well..next time I'll say that when a small bullet passes through..
Don't you worry-it was the small one-you won't feel a thing.
Damn you if I ever get burnt again-I'm gonna wear an armour fit for kings..
I don't care if I look like a moron..
Hello.. as you can see I'm no Genghis Khan.
The burn itself has become a blister..
Oh boy I can feel it.. my knickers are in a bloody twister!
Jeezus christ-it's dark brown now..
Just how does this happen...HOW??
And then there's this bubble..it's freaky and scary..
They say- Oh god dude- you're such a fairy.
(They won't understand!)
A miracle of nature this skin of ours..
Heals by itself.. albeit takes hours and hours.
Why go through all this pain-one might ask..
When the pain comes along-its hurting already..and all are taking me to task.
Holy shit people..I got burnt..
In the end all I can think of- destiny points I have earnt..
And an important lesson has been learnt.
It's no biggie- they continue saying- grow up man!
Well-I'm writing about it- for now thats going to be my plan.
I like my skin how it is thank you very much..
They say- Oh if you're scared of this dude..then you should get in touch..
(with your career counsellor that is)
As you're not going to last in this kinda environment for long..
Well.. I'll show how this wussy is gonna prove you wrong.
Lets have arm wrestling..lets have a race..
But please please don't blow smoke on my face.
I'll completely understand the situation of my fellow brothers..
Just come out-let's help one another.
Let's raise an army of people who like to care..
Let's not hide behind the metrosexual tag..or gay tag..or be called rapunzel so fair.
Let's take care of ourselves..we've got this one life.
Don't go chopping celery like a maniac with that long sharp knife..
Take it easy..take a chill pill..
Life is a bitch anyways- the journey is uphill.
If you can walk like me from Heathrow to Harrow..come give me a shout..
Otherwise kindly leave aside your foolish doubts.
I might be a wuss just coz of injuries..
But when it comes to the REAL STUFF.. I smile and say cheese!
And please don't think I'm praising myself..
Well.. I am ..so what?- write a blog for thyself.
No..no.. It doesn't mean I'm right.. I do have to be a little less sensitive..
Little shit to take.. but a lot to Give!
Think about the important things-and just take care
And leave the tag of being a wuss to me-
It's only fair.
(Holy shit a business idea! - 'Wussy Day Care')
So there you have it-my take on what real life is all about- and not letting people judge you on your lack of strength just because you dislike seeing something wrong happening to your magnificent health. I wish good health and endurance to all my readers. (Oh..that would be...I- cough..cough!)
And on a final note, as an influential author once said,
''All d wussies in da house go yeahhhh!'' (- Me)
'Waddup? I aint no wuss..but I just wanna say HELL YEAH!'
Am I wuss?
Is the question today.
Why..what or who is a wuss... you might say.
Well..plenty of reasons one might give...
Jeez.. Plenty of reasons give you the right to live.
But when you're a wuss destiny plays turns
Tests you, challenges you and makes your tummy churn.
Ok.. I'll be the first one to put my hand up...
And own up..
to the fact..
That I hate getting any injuries or disease.
I hate going to the hospital or paying the doc hefty fees.
I hate seeing my blood..
It renders an emotional flood..
One so difficult to comprehend..
But alas! You're termed as a WUSS in the end.
One tiny cut..
And you run with your hands on your butt..
And scream like a girl..
But hey now-you're getting knickers into a twirl.
Does that mean girls have a right to scream when they get hurt?
Or is it bad to SCREAM when you get skiddled with dirt..
Who defines you as a wussy in that circumstance?
And what is their level of tolerance if they get beat up by chance?
God forbid..
But that had to be said.
Coz I dislike people making definitions..
I'd like to make it a full stop-that's my proposition.
Yes, I like to take care of my body parts..
Barring aside the junk food and the tarts..
That's a different issue dude..
Please now let's not get into a feud.
The problem with me I hate getting cuts,Bruises, scars or Burns..
But you're a man now and it's your turn!
But then again I point out this vicious circle..
Am I less of a man if I don't like getting blue and purple?
My answer is nope..
My endurance and patience may be higher in different levels..
Hell I can walk for miles and miles-an activity I revel..
And I can climb stairs faster than a fox..
And lift weights mightier than an Ox..
(Haven't seen a bullock lift dumbells yet.. But still)
Chill..
And talk nonsense for hours and hours..
And write pure drivel for lines and lines..
Just to get my point across...just to make it SHINE.
You see I like to take care of this health of mine..
God has blessed me with health so fine..
Why should I blow it all away on the line?
I'm not in the Army which has it's own risks..
I'm not a magician doing dangerous sword tricks..
I work in hospitality..
Hell...Coz of that I ain't going to a hospital.
No thanks!
So you see-my endurance is in a different zone..
About the injuries here-by this poem a trumpet is blown.
Yes, I dislike getting hurt..
And what's wrong with that?-I'd like to assert.
This poem comes from a recent BURN..
A point of my life where it took a turn..
Oh.. don't be worried..it's only a small one.
Well..next time I'll say that when a small bullet passes through..
Don't you worry-it was the small one-you won't feel a thing.
Damn you if I ever get burnt again-I'm gonna wear an armour fit for kings..
I don't care if I look like a moron..
Hello.. as you can see I'm no Genghis Khan.
The burn itself has become a blister..
Oh boy I can feel it.. my knickers are in a bloody twister!
Jeezus christ-it's dark brown now..
Just how does this happen...HOW??
And then there's this bubble..it's freaky and scary..
They say- Oh god dude- you're such a fairy.
(They won't understand!)
A miracle of nature this skin of ours..
Heals by itself.. albeit takes hours and hours.
Why go through all this pain-one might ask..
When the pain comes along-its hurting already..and all are taking me to task.
Holy shit people..I got burnt..
In the end all I can think of- destiny points I have earnt..
And an important lesson has been learnt.
It's no biggie- they continue saying- grow up man!
Well-I'm writing about it- for now thats going to be my plan.
I like my skin how it is thank you very much..
They say- Oh if you're scared of this dude..then you should get in touch..
(with your career counsellor that is)
As you're not going to last in this kinda environment for long..
Well.. I'll show how this wussy is gonna prove you wrong.
Lets have arm wrestling..lets have a race..
But please please don't blow smoke on my face.
I'll completely understand the situation of my fellow brothers..
Just come out-let's help one another.
Let's raise an army of people who like to care..
Let's not hide behind the metrosexual tag..or gay tag..or be called rapunzel so fair.
Let's take care of ourselves..we've got this one life.
Don't go chopping celery like a maniac with that long sharp knife..
Take it easy..take a chill pill..
Life is a bitch anyways- the journey is uphill.
If you can walk like me from Heathrow to Harrow..come give me a shout..
Otherwise kindly leave aside your foolish doubts.
I might be a wuss just coz of injuries..
But when it comes to the REAL STUFF.. I smile and say cheese!
And please don't think I'm praising myself..
Well.. I am ..so what?- write a blog for thyself.
No..no.. It doesn't mean I'm right.. I do have to be a little less sensitive..
Little shit to take.. but a lot to Give!
Think about the important things-and just take care
And leave the tag of being a wuss to me-
It's only fair.
(Holy shit a business idea! - 'Wussy Day Care')
So there you have it-my take on what real life is all about- and not letting people judge you on your lack of strength just because you dislike seeing something wrong happening to your magnificent health. I wish good health and endurance to all my readers. (Oh..that would be...I- cough..cough!)
And on a final note, as an influential author once said,
''All d wussies in da house go yeahhhh!'' (- Me)
'Waddup? I aint no wuss..but I just wanna say HELL YEAH!'
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