Uncle Charlie, How I Envy You
To never have a camera shoved in your face
With accompanied orders to smile and pose,
With not a thought for those who lack the grace
Or the confidence to happily expose
Their gawkiness to this all-stealing eye
That no-one but no-one has the right to deny.
And so there persisted those who thought
That privacy must be trumped with the utmost ubiquity.
How dare their prey not be such a sport,
As yet another click strips yet another shred of their dignity.
I am surely so much more
Than this awkward lump you proudly snared
As you barged upon me, you shutterbugging boor,
Who ignored my gentle requests to be spared.
I am surely so much else
Than this pasty red-eyed frozen mess,
Too self-conscious, both elephant and mouse,
Who wishes to be looked upon altogether less.
And there used to be those who would claim
That every photo would thieve a sliver of their soul;
And although the sceptic inside cries shame,
A little piece within me is always left feeling less whole.
Uncle Charlie boasted that he had never had his photo taken – I guess he never noticed the film crew following him around.