How do I love me

How do I love me? Let me count the ways.
Before the mirror as I start the days
I seek out signs of gray, and rage
Over all those little signs of age.

The time I spend arranging hair,
The clothes I choose with tender care,
Whose brands announce for all to see
I am the great and only me.

I love me in my choice of car
With four wheel drive, but not too far,
Above all not upon some muddy field
In case the paint-work be concealed
Beneath a layer of dirt.

Instead I park it where my neighbours can
Imagine I’m an outdoor man
Even though I’ve hardly been
To anywhere remotely green
Beyond the local park.

I love me when I overtake
And make the other drivers brake.
I love me when I jump the queue
And reach the till in front of you.

I love me when before you’ve thought
I’ve sussed the score, and ought
To keep my silence but will speak
So you can feel I’ve slapped your cheek.

The way I bow to those who claim
To notoriety or fame
Yet treat the poor as though they ‘re scum.
These ways show just how great I am.

But in my quiet moments I might sometimes see
That all of this is just a parody
Confusing substance with a shallow gloss
That hides a life that’s little more than dross.

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