The Chase Poem by Leo Divine

Lance follows Nancy
Through the streets of Gdańsk;
No, this isn't stalking;
This is a dance;
A not-so-fancy dance
That's called the chase.

Lance acts all enchanted
& begins his advance
Spurred on by some urge
Submerged in his pants.

Nancy retreats
In this quaint, anxious prance
& every few steps
Throws a backwards glance.

A glance back
At the man
Who lives for a second chance.

A second chance
He'll never get.