In the middle:

I stand taller than,
Most of the men around can.
But not tall enough,
To be the tall and handsome stuff.

In the middle, I stand,
Trying magic without a wand.
Never high, never low,
Never hollow, but still shallow.



I earn better than,
Many workers around can.
But not well enough,
To be counted among the rich dough.

In the middle, I count,
Trying hard to earn another round.
Never too high, never too low,
Just enough to not beg and bow.

I fit in a better class in society,
But not good enough for high tea.
Just about better than the least lower,
Somewhere in the middle class I hover.

It’s always about being in the middle,
Never the best, always second fiddle.
It’s always about being just a bit better,
Than being the last to the letter.

I am better than most,
But never good enough to be the toast.
This is where it ends to be fair,
To be stuck in the middle of nowhere.

Ironic, I feel ‘cos we should really matter,
We make the balance, we the latter.
But never do we get the best of deals,
Just leftovers and the steals.

Well, all you middle men,
Wake up, stop being hen in the pen.
The world is for your taking,
We need more of you heroes in the making.