Oh Christian Eric, thou poor fool./
Rox Lisa wants to make you drool,/
while I, Cy, sit and dream of her,/
Mine is but a dream deferred.
For she somehow has chosen you/
to stir your magic verbal stew./
While my attentions are ignored/
And get discarded out her door.
And that’s where I don’t understand/
how I, a kind, romantic man,/
can be cast off as a verbal suitor./
Are you that much younger and cuter?
If only I had half the chance/
As you to pursue her in romance!
Cyrano Writer: Musings of a Revolutionary Romantic Poet 