Lord, could it be I'm not as great as they've been telling me?
I was told at an early age that I'm better than the rest. I have trophies that prove it true, but now in every contest I'm beaten by more than a few.
For years I splashed in a tub pretending to rule the wine-dark sea, but when I go to Dad's club no one confuses Neptune with me.
Now here I am back in my old room (having finished my education) with an hourly job and minimal pay and these trophies say participation.
Lord, club-footed Byron couldn't dance but you gave him eloquence and artistry, and now he's the avatar of romance. So, Lord, what gifts do you have for me? Luvgood Carp, Editor-in-Chief