By Dean Herring
Who are you really. Which hat do you wear when no one else is watching?
I like to think of myself as a man of many hats,
A hat for each occasion, quite fitting, very apt,
Let me introduce you to my millinery deeds,
Where what I wear above all else, is suited to my needs
On Mondays thereís my working hat, one of the lads, that's me,
The dodgey jokes donít hurt no one, well no one I can see,
If the jobís not up to scratch, not my fault now, is it!
The other blokes can fix it up, Iíve done my little bit
Tuesday sees me back at school, the innocence of youth
Is hidden in my cap in class! It sort of covers up the truth,
Cos when I wear it round the place I can lie and swear and cheat
Then take it off when I get home, and no one knows, itís neat!
The middle of the week and Wednesdays hatís for home
Grizzling and squabbling and arguments, a sulk, a scrap, a moan,
If someone comes to the door thoí, the families got a change,
To love and peace and sweet and light, and home home on the range
A social lid for Thursday, to get on with the crowd,
I heard Mrs Smith and whats-his-name were...quiet now not so loud,
Of course Iím not to gossip, but I heard it very clear,
My sources are impeccable, knew from the start my dear
Friday night is party night, a party hat of course,
I never smoke or drink a thing, well, sometimes if Iím forced,
Because keeping a promise is important, but so is keeping mates,
Besides, Iím always...well Iím mostly...Iím sometimes well behaved
Saturday, my sports hat, Iíll call the ref. what I darn like,
He should have brought his glasses, I shoulda bought a knife!
Itís not that Iím one eyed mate, Go the Reds and go the Blacks,
But Iíll say what I like when Iím on the bank, cos Iím wearing
my sporting hat
A different hat for Sunday, when I join the congregation,
A stirring sing from the songbook, some praise from the Songs of the Nation,
I know all the Holy jargon, I charismatically raise my arms,
I even clap on the off-beat, and know thereís 150 Psalms.
You maybe think Iíd get confused with all my different hats,
But actually itís quite easy, and no one smells a rat,
In fact I think itís catching on, thereís other folk like me,
Who realise now that what you are, is what you want others to see.
c.Dean Herring 1998í
Copyright Dean Herring, all rights reserved. This poem may be performed
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