Choke.
You and your conspirators talk behind my back.
You like to see me fail..
My future you derail.
My reputation, shunted down the track.
Consider it your mission to quell my raw ambition.
My ideas and my values you attack.
Consider me inferior and weak.
Criticize and patronise in every word you speak.
Opinionated words describe the qualities I lack.
Consider my intentions to my careful apprehensions, a mockery, no more than a joke.
Don’t hold your breath thinking I might falter.
Don’t wait for my agreement or my opinions to alter
The subject of some mean and twisted joke..
Because if you do I know you’re gonna choke..
You laugh at me behind my back, your scorn disguised as pity.
Consider me a fantasist, a man like Walter Mitty.
A dreamer, without charm, a weaker man than most, devoid of all integrity and hope..
Not your sort of man, nor your cup of tea, a loser, an outcast and a joke.
When you’re forced to eat your words, I hope you choke.
Some would say that jealousy is hidden.
Deep within those people who admire.
Deep within our critics and supporters,
Corrosive from within, it smoulders like a fire.
Maybe I should excuse your constant slander.
Conceal the axe, and be the bigger bloke.
Try to understand your belligerence and candor.
Forgive the words of hatred and the prejudice you spoke.
Words on which I hope you choke.