Disdainfully smirking, making foolish remarks.
No one has their ears on, nobody harks.
Incoherently mumbling, scratching his a*s.
Trying his best, to burst a big bubble of gas.
Somebody snickers, someone guffaws.
They're not letting a word get crammed down their craws.
He feels a tear, roll out of his eye.
He wipes it off frantically, big boys don't cry.
The crowds getting rambunctious, he feels ascared.
If they could only see, how much he cared.
He ducked a tomato that whizzed past his head.
They'd lost all repect for him, was it something he said.
He wanted his Mommy, he wanted his Jill.
He was starting to lose it, he needed a pill.
Looking confused, he turned and shuffled away.
Forgetting why they'd sent him out here today.
Everyone was laughing, some rolled on the floor.
Someone yelled, don't let your a*s get hit by the door.
The usual ending to his pressers each day.
Ten minutes later, poof, everything was okay.
D.L. Crockett -- 8/26/22