It’s not terribly sane to call your son Wayne,
When your last name is Wayne as well.
It may make you smile, but pause for awhile,
A name carries a sort of a spell.

Think of the child, born so meek and mild,
Growing up and going to school.
He’ll be pitied and scorned, wish he’d never be born,
His name makes him feel such a fool.

Think of the drain of being Wayne Wayne.
In class, and also at play.
What do you do when folks laugh at you
For being a Wayne night and day.

“How d’ do, what name have you?”
Strangers must feel like a curse.
Do you give your true name, with all of its shame?
Or do you lie and deceive and get terse.

The jokes people tell.  It’s like living in hell.
And pain doesn’t just make you tougher.
It makes you grow small, like you’re not here at all.
You hide it but continue to suffer.

So think once again before giving a name.
Torture can start with a sound.
Make the name strong and bold, so when he’s grown old,
He’ll be proud of the name that you found.

Which returns us to Wayne with his second name Wayne,
How did his face end in grins?
Well, for a small fee, he sought a legal decree,
And changed his name to Wayne Wins!