Throughout his life he'd always come in second
-- an honorable mention his reward,
and even when the main prize coyly beckoned,
his gasps of valiant effort stayed ignored.
The clothes he wore -- donated by his brother,
who was the first and therefore got the best,
the girls he had were found by his own mother,
who didn't think he'd stand up to the test.
He never found a job which made him happy,
his colleagues were promoted in his stead;
his dress-sense was mundane instead of snappy,
he seldom got a woman in his bed.
His life had much half-hearted consternation,
he'd make the grade but never come in first
-- the stress he bore from all his perspiration
caused him to slide from second down to worst.