I could be a politician 

In my repertoire I’ve got false promises, awkward public speaking, and conflicting decisions 

But I’m best at putting my foot in my mouth

Especially in social settings, things quickly go south 

I know we should never talk about politics 

So I talk about money 

But in a way I think is cunning

I’ll make a comment about your house 

And I’ll ask you a question about yourself like I care 

But not even listen an ounce

I’m too busy thinking about myself

And what I might say next 

It’s a good thing my gremlins don’t send a follow-up text 

If I try to be friendly I overreach 

It comes out as unbecoming speech 

A poke at your lame foot

Or at the music you like 

No matter how hard I try, my tongue readily dispenses spikes

I’ll hold my arms and hands in a way that disguises my true plans

What did you say? 

I wasn’t listening 

I was too busy eating my own foot 

Even though it tastes like soot 

As everyone stands, it’s not for an ovation

They exit the room one by one 

Wisdom swoops down and I accept the invitation

To say nothin’

It’s the hardest campaign 

But at least now I can’t inflict pain 

By the end of the night I am de-feeted 

I’ve eaten my feet

There’s nowhere to go 

There’s nothing to say – I have no space 

But I guess for next time I’ll know 

As I recall that Proverb: Even a fool is thought wise if he keeps silent, discerning if he seals his lips

All my friends (constituents) have left like ships 

So alone I sit 

Hopefully another run, another bid, another party, another try is something I’ll get