Of the all the kids there had to be,
All but one, not two nor three,
A young tike gone by Jimmy Neverbee.
“For no one can give birth to me,
I create my own destiny,” said he.

And young Jimmy of age three,
Upon after receiving a whipping,
Hissed at his mother ever so sweetly,
“Dear mom, dare not strike upon thee
I am his own, Jimmy Neverbee,
For no one can discipline me,
I create my own destiny.”

And by the time of his teens,
Jimmy went uncontrollably,
Through school without creed,
To get grades, no better than a D.
“For no one can learn me,
I create my own destiny,” said he.

Now one day he, ol’ poor Jimmy,
Ran into the likes of a mean bully,
Named Bobby McGee.
Who happened to be,
In Jimmy’s tree.
Not two nor three,
But one finger so mean,
To Bobby he let free,

Mean Bobby gave Jimmy,
A swift kick to the groin,
And left the fledging,
On the ground laying,
To beg and plead.
“For no one can hurt me,
I create my own destiny,” cried he.

But Jimmy, did ever he,
Never ever come to see,
What creating his own destiny,
Was to mean?
“I am the one and only,
Jimmy Neverbee,
Live by his own philosophy,
For no one can own me,
I create my own destiny,” said he.

And soon he met meaner bullies,
With more than a swift knee,
But rather a knife used for stabbing.
And poor ol’ Jimmy,
Was to be left to bleed,
And upon his body, laying dying,
Did he ever mutter so gently,
“I live easy,
A follower of my own philosophy,
Creator of my own destiny,
I shall always be free,
Of this cruel world’s tyranny.
For I am me, and only shall I be,
The one and only,
Jimmy Neverbee,” said he.

* * * *

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