I once was a toughened Scout,
Learning knots and survival skills.
We'd learn how to put up a tent,
And how to hike on the hills.
Then we'd put our skills to the test,
Our leaders would laugh and cheer.
As they sent us off into the bush,
With civilisation no-where near.
The rain would pelt down and soak our skin,
'Till we shivered and shook with cold.
Our fingers would be numb and sore,
As we sent up tents infested by mould.
Next came finding the firewood,
You can imagine how well that went!
All the wood was ruined and soggy,
But we scouts just wouldn't relent.
We'd spend hours trying to dry some kindling,
Holding a match near some dripping leaves.
We wouldn't give up, we wouldn't stop,
We'd thought it would work if we truly believed.
Of course belief just wasn't enough,
We'd needed that bit more.
But after some skill and determination,
The flames would grow bigger and start to soar.
So we'd all sit around the fire,
Trying to get dry and warm.
We'd talk and laugh and make a joke,
And we'd all feel on top form.
We'd had it tough, but made it through
And not once had we complained.
So have a think, next time you try,
To call Scouts nerdy or lame.
