Poem
By Jim Gandolf
When they see you on the rise,
a bitter taste behind their eyes.
You're soaring high, a brilliant light,
and it burns them in the dead of night.
They whisper words with venom's sting,
hoping your fall is what they'll bring.
But every jab, every hateful sneer,
just fuels the fire that brought you here.
Your triumph stings, a slap to their face,
success they simply can't erase.
So let them fume and let them stew,
for your victory is the ultimate 'Forget about it.'
PS I know this success,
chaps donkeys rear!
Jim Gandolf
©️08252025
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