Pusillanimous

Pick me, oh pick me

Or don’t

I’m never really sure

The pride of choice

Or the loath of chosen

Oft chosen the admiration

Of the girls front of line

Then the shy boys middle

Given to derision of the angry

And the bullies.

Doyle a plexis punch

Armstrong a testicular kick

Doubled over the door closes upon the line

Doubled over time and again

The last but am chosen