The complete man

You stand out, so tall
Gallant, hard and yet
Soft and childlike.
Touching the mother figure
Passing on a little warmth
Clutching the child and
Sharing a little understanding.
Towering over the boardroom,
Hard decisions and adoring glances.
Your suit does not gather creases
Nor does your brow.
Pensive you stand, your patrician profile
Softened by the synthetic sunset.
Bet, you haven’t spent a night
Awake with worry, when
The thermometer does not show
What you want to see
And the little child well;
Wasted a day trying
To revive the dead telephone;
To get a gas cylinder,
Tried to solve a problem
Of algebra, long forgotten,
When the fat file lurks in your briefcase,
Changed a flat tyre.
Complete man-
You are the product
Of the copywriter’s fervent imagination.
Come, meet
The middle-aged, middle class man
Who buys the suits and dreams
You help to sell.