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January 14, 2006
Are you my better?
Are you my better? Now let me see.
You are rich and a Kennedy.
The best looking one you used to be,
But to remember that takes a long memory.
Pampered, spoiled, but you weren't always.
Things were pretty rough in your prep school days.
But you cheated at Harvard, and they had to expel
The pompous young man whose exam didn't sell.
Two big brothers paved your way with their lives,
And the unworthy youngest even now survives.
No wonder you're riddled with uncontrollable guilt.
You drink far too much and you pull up your quilt
To destroy the soul—destroying eternal cries
Of Mary Jo Kopeckne as she dies.
With this sad dinosaur I sympathize
This pathetic survivor will not again rise.
Tell your tale to St. Peter, I strongly advise,
For all of your righteousness how do you sleep
With the dark experiences you still keep
Buried inside a secret place
To your inner self's complete disgrace?
And although you think you're better than me,
I'd not want to be you through Eternity.