Watching the Ripples Radiate.
Author: marshalg

Chapter 18
There's Them


There’s them who sit and think a lot,
there’s them who count the gold they’ve got.
There’s them that run and chase their tail
And seek the rainbows end …and fail.
There’s those who hide and keep it quiet
and sit and fester deep inside.
It’s them you watch with all you’ve got
You know damn well they’ll lose the plot
Throw all the toys outside the cot
They hit their tantrum steaming hot.
There’s dreamers, schemers lost in cloud
There’s types who love their music loud
There’s fat ones , thin ones in between
There’s uglies and the beauty queen
There’s them who plot and plan to rob,
The sort who never hold a job,
They play the system, milk the scheme
They’re always somewhere in between
The pot of gold, the magic plan
The wolf enclosed within the lamb.
The ugly bastards roam the streets
Picking fights and stealing treats,
They dwell on violence, hit on girls
Trash the bus stops, write on walls
They leave the place a damned disgrace
Where no civilian shows his face
For fear of being kicked to death
The streetsmart coppers hold their breath.
The drugs and degradation do
Contaminate the children too.
There’s them that stop and try their best
Organise a youth group quest,
They form a club or sporting thing
And fight that cancerous child molesting
There’s them who strive and try so hard
Work three jobs then sweep the yard.
They toil & sweat & bend their backs
Pay way beyond their share of tax;
They aught to get the lion’s share
Instead the cupboard ends up bare
The socialistic system’s sting
Impairs their speech and stuffs their thing.
The pouter pidgeon has his place
A pinstripe suit, a florid face
He’s boss of them that he commands
The profits end up in his arms.
He’s got the game all sorted out
Blonde secretary’s up the spout.
The wheels are flash the wallets fat
And real estate is where it’s at.
The wife plays bridge and he enjoys
The Wednesday golf with all the boys.
There’s them who like to hold the reigns
They think there’s blue blood in their veins.
They run for mayor and when that’s done
They set their course for Wellington
The beehive is their chosen place
A members seat they wish to grace.
They  won’t be satisfied until
They’ve scooped the pool and topped the bill.
Prime Ministerial stuff are they
They seek the power, seek the day
When they can call the nation theirs
Wear the robes and climb the stairs.
Have the masses bow and fawn
Place two coppers on the lawn
Air New Zealand free for life
Be above mere mortal strife.
And then there’s them who think life’s grand
They smile and offer you their hand,
Each day’s a winner, sun does shine
The job’s so good, the wife’s sublime.
Nothing spoils the day for them
The grass is green the score is ten.
The motor mower’s running sweet
The lawn feels marvellous on the feet.
A deck chair and a good book too
Completes the picture through and through
Who could want for any more…
Perhaps a lie down… and a snore.
So there you have it laid out straight
There’s some you love and some you hate
It’s life’s great tapestry you see
Some expensive, some is free
What ever course you choose to run
Remember friend.. To make it fun
You’ve only got one life to live
Waste it and you’ll never give
Yourself another chance to be
That rarest soul…A good Kiwi.
Mangere Bridge
4th December 2007



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