If i do/
not marry U,/
can i ask U out?/
If I resist/
nuptual bliss,/
could we scream and shout?/
I think dancing/
and romancing/
could be fun/
with the right some1!
Once again I stand
alone in No Man’s Land:
A land that women shun.
Are men there? No, not one!
Except me,
creatively dancing,
writing poetry,
attempting romancing.
And I don’t have to try
to be a nice guy.
But the sad reality
is no woman goes there with me.
And so, there, alone I stand:
A funny intellect in No Man’s land.
Yet another weekend ev’n is past;/
The week soon starts again, too fast,/
Yet we sit, still, at our keyboard,/
and wonder why we are alone, tired, bored./
Or are we truly resolute and complete?/
Do we view/
our solitude/
as victory, not defeat?/
We may nurse our whine/
with wine;/
assuage our aged fear
with beer./
But if we, with our own company, are endeared,/
then why sit we, fingers dancing, quasi-romancing, here?