Thanks for Nothing Dad

I'm writing this missive to you Dad

As I'm nearing the end of my stint

And on the off-chance that we'll meet up again

I would like to put something in print

I have to report that I've had a great life

But no thanks to you, by the way

'cause all that advice that you dished out to me

Was pretty much useless I'd say

All that stuff about keeping my nose clean

And scrimping and saving was daft

'cause I've managed to build up a fortune

From embezzlement, laundering and graft

And you told of the virtues of fairness

Of loyalty, kindness and trust

If I'd taken that road I assure you

I'd be unhappy, lonely and bust

You told me the meek would inherit the earth

But wherever I look it's quite clear

That the world is still run by bastards like me

Using cunning, deception and fear

So I've gone my own way, and done my own thing

And the whole thing's worked out pretty well

I made sure that my nest was well-feathered

And that others could just go to hell

But I know your beliefs were well-meant, as it goes

Just unhelpful, half-baked and naïve

And if ever we meet I'll explain to you Dad

Why I found them so hard to believe

      .................................

You said one day we'd meet up in heaven

That we'd sit on some cloud and we'd chat

But I strongly suspect, in conclusion,

That you were even wrong about that