Not clever,
He sits down
On the exclusive
Green leather.
It's late in the game
And most of the reds have gone.
He takes off his
Clip-on tie and bows with shame.
If only,
He laments,
The budget cue
He rents,
His refusal
Of a long and easy rest
Taking the low scoring yellow
Instead of
The smart safety of the green
The bloody difficult blue -
He could’ve easily potted,
But! outside the rules
The referee re-spotted,
The white gloves,
Pulling strings,
And ultimately
Nothing's
The thing
That he could do.
No Chas and Dave
To whistle,
A baying crowd of hacks
Bristle and
Laugh
At his marching shoes,
At missed pinks and blacks,
They go for the throat
Of his high-vis
Waistcoat.
The resentment grips,
The match a fix
And this’ll
Prove
What different
Result
It could've,
If the the match
Had been
On the
TV screen.
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