'God you're grey! '
My rival said.
(I'd taken his favourite
Girl to bed) .
'Not only grey,
You're very fat! '
I shrugged my shoulders,
That was that.
But later on
That selfsame day,
I thought of LOTS
Of things to say
That were so clever;
Much too late!
My only solace now
My hate.
That's no solace,
But you see
I've never been good
At repartee.
John Thorkild Ellison
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/repartee/
