To the lovely girl,
Who passed my desk.
In the tight blue jeans,
And the purple vest.
The one whose hair shone,
Like a sunrise in June.
I wish you’d turned round,
But you’d gone all too soon.
To that cute ruby redhead,
With her smart pinstripe suits.
Wears her hair in a bob,
And sports black high-heel boots.
As she waits for the bus,
On a cold Autumn day.
If only she’d look,
Or she’d turn round my way.
There was once a girl,
Who noticed me smile.
I think it was Tesco,
And we talked for a while.
She seemed really nice,
Kind of chatty, yet dreamy,
Then up rang her boyfriend,
He wanted linguini.
I would like the chance,
To go out with a lady.
Why not treat her to dinner?
Or the cinema? And maybe
We could take in a show.
I would buy her iced cream.
Or go really, real-posh,
Order drinks between scenes.
See, it’s not all that easy,
When you’re cast the wrong role.
One body for appearance,
But another for the soul.
My chin lacks stubble,
My bum’s really sagged.
And the people down the hallway,
Call me “Janet, that old slag”.
Copyright © Sam McKeon 2015
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