Poem: Ricky

Another poem for the “Richard” files. Not a nice one. At all.

He never let anyone call him that.
He wasn’t Rich, or Dick, or Rick, or Dicky.

He was Richard through and through —
until one night, a woman called him

Ricky. Then he said he wasn’t so bad.
He treated her very badly. I so wish

she’d just called him Richard.