The nearly men

I am one of the nearly men
Never quite the best
Not really of the crowd
Not quite one of the rest.
You see us in every photograph
When the prizes are handed out
Making up the numbers yet
Never standing out
For we nearly men and dreamers
Just stand back and allow
The doers and the action men
Their triumphal bows.
We feed our children humour
And tell them it’s no disgrace
To amble along comfortably
In the middle of the race.
We don’t believe in heavens
Or gods at pearly gates
So we try with dignity
To accept our various fates.
We consume our allotted portions
And when it’s time to die
We face it not with a roar
But with a quiet sigh.
Nearly men and dreamers
Never quiet never loud
Trying their hardest not
To mingle with the crowd.