I've been following the Tour de France this year, and yesterday I wrote a poem about it. It's called 'Domestique'. I hope you like it. Here it is.
I am a humble domestique
I ride the Tour de France
My sponsor's name is on my shirt
And also on my pants
And though I will not win today
I must pretend to try
So when the cameras film it all
They're advertising Sky
It's even worse when riding up
An Alp or Pyrenee
Those are the days I'm someone it's
No fun at all to be
I'm not as strong as Froome, of course
But Froomey needs to chill
So he stays in my slipstream, while
I drag him up the hill
If Froomey's feeling peckish, he
Can have my protein gel
And if his bike breaks down, and he
Needs mine, that's his as well
If such a thing were possible
I'd give my very soul
Maintaining Froomey's comfort
Is my one and only goal
I feel I must explain myself
I feel it makes no sense
That Chris gets all the glory, and
It's all at my expense
To really get inside my head
You have to understand
For three short weeks of agony
They pay me ninety grand
No comments:
Post a Comment