Dear Shorty

Dear Shorty, this is your inner-self talking, addressing you and others in our position,

You’re down about something, same old thing, trivial at first glance,

Takes one to know it first-hand, the lucky ones won’t understand,

Day after day waking and hoping you’d climbed a few rungs,

Plucked from the land of the vertically-challenged, from the jerks and their ceaseless trolling,

Sure, you’re in the mid-teens, still some years before those plates freeze,

Sadly, the genetics have the final say, but you’re counting on miracles anyway,

A genetic rebellion remains unlikely, gotta face facts, Buddy,

Ain’t no way will you play in the NBA, but keep that chin up, Son, everything will be ok.

Height, it’s a touchy subject, especially among dudes,

In matters of courting, a potential deal-breaker, it’s an unfortunate truth,

‘He’s a ten’, some are saying, ‘shame that he’s too short,’

God help you if you’re standing under six, can’t pass that trait over to her future kids,

Not much you can do about it, though, it’s beyond your control,

Pounds can melt, muscles gained, degrees earned and promotional ladders climbed,

But unless you come from a line of living skyscrapers you’ll remain a tiny little cabin,

Sorry to break it to ya, Mate, but neither of yours fit the description,

Ditto their folks and so on, a break in the pattern ain’t happening,

It sucks to be you, life is unfair, bet that’s what you’re thinking.

But while the frustration’s kinda understandable, you’re looking the fool by playing victim,

Can’t do nothing about it so why not instead aim to be more productive,

What you lack in height you can make up for in character and intelligence,

Carve your own glorious future, learn to win over others, watch that lack of height fade into irrelevance,

Peep at fellow manlets thriving like they’re big men on campus, got the girl, making bank, popular among peers, living like kings,

What were their excuses? Nothing, they rose above perceived limitations, defined their mission and their purpose then chipped away, moving mountains,

People are entitled to their preferences, you’re not made for everyone,

Doesn’t permit you to force or beg for their affections, people have a right to their standards,

Though there are the malicious and shallow, judging strictly on appearances and dimensions,

Won’t get anywhere with ‘em, they never deserved your time and energy anyway,

Kick them to the curb, make room for those that choose you,

The ones that’ll take you for all of you, those are your type of people.

The passing of time brings with it upgrades in technology,

Can now defy your genetics through science and manipulation,

Limb lengthening surgeries, once reserved for those imbalanced, becoming commonplace though no less pricey, will this cure your insecurities?

Guaranteed that bank account will suffer, procedure and airfares must be covered, more likely than not gotta head to another land, in the care of total strangers,

Prepare to have those legs broken, bits and pieces put in ya, designed to stretch those bones longer,

A lengthy recovery period awaits ya, any of that leave your stomach churning?

Sure you’ll be taller, but a price must be paid, long term effects could be debilitating, will you risk it just to be accepted by others?

Be your own authentic self, work on yourself daily,

Short king or victim, the choice is yours, clear as day which way is appealing,

Why get caught up in where you’re lacking, you still have much going for ya,

Go all-in with the cards you’re dealt, come out your shell and make friends, never know what or whom you’ll get,

Work at it daily and watch yourself evolve, grow in ways you never thought, your stature won’t matter anymore,

The world is still yours, King, but you gotta earn it if you want it,

Go fourth and conquer, one day you’ll be a giant among men.

Killed With Kindness

Another hard day of grinding, the type Johnny and Paulie sang about,

Tired as a dog, just want to sleep like a log, but first gotta hit the road,

No mood for bullshit, just want to get by with no hassles,

‘Not today, Bud’, the universe had other ideas,

Fifteen minutes from home, fair bit of traffic, crossed that double-lane roundabout,

Some dude from the outer lane, don’t remember the make and model of his vehicle, just that it was a silver colour,

Slams into my passenger door, trying to turn right from the outside,

No way that’s happening without causing an accident,

Aimed to go home without incident, now additional chores need attending, to top it off my ride’s dented, got me mad as hell and fuming,

Pulled over to the side, ready to spew fire and brimstone,

Fists ready if need be, he’s about to cop it tenfold,

Stomped over to him as he exits his vehicle, came out with his hands up, these are the first words from out his mouth;

“I’m sorry, it was my fault, I’ll give you my details then call the cops,”

Just like that, all thoughts of vitriol and ass-whuppings extinguished, took down his details before asking if he’s injured,

Cops showed up, asked for both sides of the story, made notes of what’s necessary before dismissing us in a hurry,

The other player and me, shook hands and wished each other well, off he drove unaware that earlier yours truly thought of giving him hell,

Kind of amazing, the power of calmness and a few kind words,

Never thought it’d work, use it before resorting to violence, it’d make for a far better world,

Next time you get on the wrong foot, try to kill ‘em with kindness, let’s see what happens,

But if the desired effect ain’t happening, by all means, get ready to throw down like nobody’s business, you have a right to defend yourself if they swing first, just don’t go overboard with it.

The Final Level pt. 2

HSC, three little letters inspiring horror and fear,

13 years of schooling led to this, can’t believe it’s almost here,

Been ups and downs over the years, sometimes sun, sometimes rain,

Kinda fitting that the final level would dish out the most pain,

That workload ever-increasing, showing no signs of ceasing,

Low-key feeling the pressure from the relos to pass with flying colors, it’s boom or bust the way they’re talking about it,

Like it’s do or die, that a piece of paper determines one’s fate,

No wonder some check out early when they fail to make the grade,

Time to get serious, though, need to start thinking about life on the other side,

This here’s the training ground, Kid, out there it’s real life,

Uni, TAFE or the workforce, the choice is yours to make, better make moves now, they’ll soon push you out the gate,

But let’s get back to the tale, shall we? Still plenty to unpack here,

Never had true allies in this place, just some guys that knew your name,

And even then, within their circle, found yourself constantly on the outs,

Left you high and dry when jerks came knocking, seemed to join in the hazing and finger pointing, until eventually you were left deserted,  

No safety in numbers, going it alone has consequences, what’s a boy to do?

Here’s a taste of real life, Dude, fend for yourself, that’s what grown folks do,

Home remains where the heart is, but even solid foundations chip now and then,

Got too much on that plate to take notice, hopeful, somehow, the structure won’t go collapsin’.

Had A Nice Trip

Lunchtime bell chimes, highlight of the day besides afternoon dismissal,

Over the terrain, monsoon-like conditions are finally tapering,

Teacher dismissed the class, handed out homework in the process,

Adding another cog to that never-ending carousel of assessment tasks and tests,

Our man packed his things then headed out the door, off to meet his chums for lunch, pick up on what they’d been chopping ‘bout before,

Stepped out onto the concrete, segued over to the grass to make way for on-comers, namely jocks, big enough to put him on his ass,

Bad move, Champ, wet soil and worn shoes are a deadly combination,

Our guy slipped into a seated position, from there kicking off epic humiliation,

That ass smeared with brown, stained much of his trousers,

All around him an orchestra of laughter, even from those checking on his welfare,

His stoicism intact he stands, his brown behind only adding fuel to the fire, the masses got something to laugh about over the next half-hour,

Luckily for him, he lived not too far away, simply ambled to the parking lot, fired up his ride, made the short drive to where he resides,

Changed pants before heading back, still with some time to spare,

Practically inhaled his food before the sound of the afternoon bell,

Back to class he went with the rest of his peers, time to smash the last two periods,

Had him a nice trip, certainly, but one that he’ll want to forget about in a hurry.

Choices

It’s been and done, ingrained into the minds of society now,

Seen it happen time and time again, the consequences common knowledge now,

Yet some blinded by ignorance, or perhaps bravado or indifference, to whom are we referring? Those hitting the bottle then they’re gunning it,

Countless stories year after year, boozers buzzing behind the wheel,

Spiritualised in ways not religious, rather, the type several bottles deep,

The outcome well known, twisted metal, mangled bodies, throw in a fire then explosion,

Culprit and victim splitting costs, ending up additional statistics,

The weight of guilt and trauma unbearable, ordered to do time for your errors provided you ain’t dead or invalid,

That’s a whole ‘nother prison, especially if your actions done killed another,

Why play Russian roulette when the odds are never in your favour?

No honor or glory gained for it, such acts only for fools and idiots, do the right thing and call you a cab, better yet bring you a sober pal,

Getting home intact rooted in luck than actual fact, more than likely you’ll end up in a crash,

If your ride ain’t halted first, prepare those excuses once the cops come for your license.

Here comes another, driving ‘round with precious cargo onboard,

Pulled up to the side of the road, little one snoozing up a storm,

Locked the door then walked into the store, fiending for ciggies and nothing more,

Sweltering outdoors but took the keys with ya, ain’t nobody stealing that ride and child from ya,

But as is always the case got side-tracked, rare are they that go in with no sudden additional plans,

Got the smokes and more to go with it, more than thirty minutes had elapsed,

Back to your ride you go, something doesn’t seem right,

Sensing no rhythm or movement from your little tyke,

Called the cops and medics, now your misjudgement belongs to the public, a crowd gathers, frantic scenes recorded on phones, made the rounds before the media got a hold,

Now you’re front-page news, the scourge of the masses, you left him to bake to death while you indulged your unhealthy habit,

Should have learned from those that walked before you, but instead you tried their shoes,

Good luck sleeping well at night, his face will haunt your dreams, your poor unfortunate child.

Kids enslaved by screens, apps a portal to another world,

Free to create their own imagined experiences, keep up with appearances, whether the genuine article or edited and filtered,

Oversharing an inevitable side-effect, winning friends and influencing but not quite how Carnegie scripted it,

Outdoing one another in ways mind-boggling and in some cases frightening to please faceless crowds not even worth mentioning,

‘Monkey see, monkey do’ seems to be the order of the day, peep at the risky games they play, common sense locked in the drawer then the keys thrown away,

Poking the Grim Reaper, trolling others, acting the fool just to please strangers,

Shenanigans involving gnarly substances, stunting with no safety equipment, striking a pose on spots precarious, whatever lights up their IG and twitter pages,

Dancing and acting the fool on that medium loved and loathed in equal measures, named after the sound made by clocks,

Sussed as a potential spying tool for the CCP but for the rest just another vehicle for ‘look at me!’

Dicing with death for the sake of chasing clout and thrills, no sane mind has time for this shit,

Some paying for it with their lives, talk about dumb ways to die,

That epitaph bound to be laughable, ‘here lies so-and-so, perished in ways unnecessary and avoidable,

How’s that for a legacy? A life of promise reduced to head shakes and mockery.

No doubt some of y’all be triggered, let’s throw you a bone,

Y’all be sharing the triumphs and struggles, no need to go through it all alone,

Built your own communities, albeit one detached from reality,

Can’t say such a life is healthy, it could cost you your sanity eventually,

Can’t paint all users with the same brush as all the fools and braggarts highlighted above,

There are those that promote goodness and encouragement, creativity and self-love,

Just a shame that loud mouths are drowning ‘em, it’s always the deplorable and ignorant,

No different than the real world where the smart are quiet while the stupid are confident,

By all means, live as you please, but do remember to touch grass now and then, get you some sunshine and fresh air, feel the wind in your hair,

Go for a walk, run or hike like a functioning human being,

Perhaps find a purpose and a calling, away from the world beyond that magnetic screen.

Comes down to choices, always has and always will,

Even when the fallout is no happy ending, only you have the final say on your destiny,

Can’t force others to go against their will, let ‘em find out the hard way,

No better teacher than experience, they’re asking for it, let ‘em pay,

Still, should’ve known better, been proven time and time again that certain acts have the possibility of a point of no return but still they can’t or won’t ever learn,

They say to take risks and push the envelope but never forget the limits,

What you get away with today might one day lead to your destruction.