When I was four, I had a flangiprop
Just like my brother’s, only it was smaller;
I never could quite get the hang of it
I thought that, maybe, later, when I’m taller —
 
I would turn flangipropping to an art
And be the best in my whole neighborhood;
But every effort was quite short, at best –
In all my years, I never got that good —
 
But I kept trying, well into my teens.
A “flangiproppish boy” – how I was known;
But still I never did it right, I know.
It’s decades now, and how the time has flown –
 
There’re several skills I’ve mastered well enough,
A few I can do well, and do for fun —
But flangiproppery’s eluded me:
Among my skills, it still
Just isn’t
One

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