A bit of fun "for a change."

Blow the Wistle
By John Herlihy

I am not an European or a Sudanese;
I am not a mongrel dog or a Pekinese.
I once pretended to be richer than my due,
Impersonating a nobleman sipping Irish stew.
When suddenly, someone blew the whistle;
I was uncovered as a pauper sucking a thistle.

I was minding my business, an innocent traveler,
Young, inexperienced, of unassuming caliber.
Soon, I hoped to tie the knot and be newly wed,
But life has a way of turning the tables instead.
When suddenly, somebody blew the whistle;
A band of gypsies stole my money, left me for dead.

I snuck into first class feeling the worse for wear,
Eating caviar with champagne without a higher fare,
Just wondering what it was like way up there,
Among the highfalutin who sit and simply stare.
When suddenly, somebody blew the whistle;
And I was thrown back among the dogs, laid bare.

I am finally a full-fledged citizen of the world,
Not wishing to expand further my sense of dignity,
Just eager to enlarge my knowledge of humanity,
Without wishing to compromise my inborn sanity.
When suddenly, somebody blew the whistle;
I was cast into the rough like a fatty piece of gristle.

I am running as fast as possible for my life,
Not wishing to lose it without undue strife.
My rabbit’s feet two steps to the sounding fife,
My heart pounding in my throat feeling rife.
When suddenly, I thought to blow my own whistle;
I am guilty, I done wrong, I stand up like bristle.

I awoke one day feeling fresh like another,
Not a care in the world; a day like any other.
A hooded horseman came galloping on a stallion,
Intent on catching me, just a roughhouse hallion.
When suddenly, somebody blew the whistle;
I was finally exposed and about to be found.