Revision
It's true, my brother was taller and better looking than me.
Women ogled him on the street, while I followed in his wake.
I’m five foot something , he was six foot three.
I lived in his shadow. He was the real Mccoy, and i the fake.
I went to flea markets for my clothes, wore dead mans shoes.
He had money to burn on designer labels, fancy jeans.
He was up and coming, and I was yesterdays news.
He blew it all but I lived within my means.
The accountant has been marking it all in his ledger book,
with the accrued sum and the amount to be repaid,
with a goose quill and a stern Victorian look.
People make money off those who want to get laid.
Now if I look in the mirror, am I more handsome, or he?
I no longer believe in what my eyes can see.
Runt.
It's true, my brother was taller and better looking than me.
Women ogled him on the street, while I followed in his wake.
I’m five foot something , he was six foot three.
I lived in his shadow. He was the real McCoy, and i the fake.
I went to markets for my clothes, wore dead-mans' shoes.
He had money to burn on designer labels, fancy jeans.
He was up and coming, and I was yesterdays news.
He blew it all but I lived within my meagre means.
And though he’s dead I still have more than him(you).
(Do they have fifty inch Oled TV’s in the grave?)
My modest fifty-fifty vision will do
compared to what those stiffs will Autosave.
But would I trade the new technology
for at least least an hour, for him to be with me?
Runt.
14 lines! Great title. Liked ogled/Oled.
I couple of familiar phrases in the lines, perhaps to ground the poem?while I followed in his wake
Perhaps I have poetic tendencieswhile I hollered/hollowed in his wake
I've done that (well, a dead cousin actually)wore dead-mans' shoes