Retainer

I’m a bit short mate, I need a retainer,

For I don’t want to be, an incessant complainer,

I don’t want to spit out those cliché things,

Like, why are you flying, where are my wings?

I’m trying, honest, this is a onetime lift,

Then I’ll go on, with my lifetime shift,

With gratitude to you, who gave me hope,

So, I can clean myself up, with much needed soap,

The pain, down the drain, no more strain,

Coz my negativity, now has been slain.

Then I wake up from chivalrous dream,

It ain’t like that, it’s oh so mean,

A thousand applications, have no answer,

I’ll get a gun, I’ll become a chancer,

For I have a list, that I need to quench,

I say rocking, on a scorched park bench,

With those, the aesthetically pleasing,

Giving me smug looks, giving me teasing,

Then my friend Glock 17, joins the scene,

Mixing blood red, onto the park green.

Then I wake up, and return to reality,

No more nightmares, full of fatality,

I count the blessings, that I own,

And all the good, that I’ve sewn,

But still a croggy, I need to have,

That I can walk, on a more normal path,

Although there can only be, one me,

I’m still part of this family,

Like you, I would like to be a gainer,

But, I’m a bit short mate, I need a retainer.