Tough.

(An Exercise In Scorn.)

Well, that's too bad, just too bad!

And what did they expect?

Wherever did they get such notions?

Serves them right, some might say.

Hard bloody luck, I say.

What? Sympathy? Is it sympathy?

Who do you take me for?

Molly Coddle is it? Is it Molly Coddle?

Good enough for them, I say.

It might teach them something,

a lesson they shouldn't forget.

But I doubt it, gravely doubt it.

For why should they learn anything

with so many .... softies about the place

to encourage them in their foolery?

God help us, I say. God help us

and God save us from silly

                                            simple-minded .... sympathisers

intent on comforting the foolhardy and the feckless

and sparing them from ever tasting

 the full folly of their ways.

No. The tonic of bitter disappointment

is best taken neat and not watered-down

with the .... milk of .... misplaced commiseration.

Charity may be charity

but fair is fair

 and actions must have consequences,

and if you're going to get above your station

don't be crying if you miss your stop.

Those that go reaching for the moon

 may well fall to earth with a bang,

and that, as they say, is plain physics.

 Sink or swim,

as you sow, so you reap,

 so let the so-and-sos

fend for themselves like the rest of us

who are happy to keep our feet on the ground

 and not go flying off half-cocked.

They have made their bed:

now let them stew in it,

stew in the mess of their own making.

Am I right? Am I right? Am I right?

Yes! Of course I'm right!

Molly Coddle is it? Is it Molly Coddle?

'Twould make a body laugh.