Advice To A Wannabe Lover Poem by John Thorkild Ellison

You could be dead before the dawn
Lost in a pile of second-rate porn,
Admit it now, you've had it, mate,
It's just no good, love came too late
To change the way you act and think,
You sold your soul to the demon drink.
Admire her beauty while you can,
You poor old sod, you excuse for a man,
She's beautiful, too good for you,
She has a mind, high standards too,
Did you really think you could be her friend?
Look at you, mate, you're round the bend!
You can't expect a woman like that
To fall for you - she smelt a rat
When you tried it on with your silver-tongued chat.
Better pretend it was all a mistake,
She's seen right through you and knows you're a fake.
At least you knew her for a while,
Her voice so beautiful, and what a smile!
It's a memory you'll want to save
And take with you to the silent grave;
But as for today, just give it a rest
You'll drive her mad by being a pest! !
Be grateful that she wishes you well,
Then go back humbly to your private hell.