So there I was burning the candle somewhat, enjoying a drink or two
No such Jack the Lad
There are far more hardcore out there than me, a good enough instance would be the ones in the corner smoking mounds of pot
Not my thing but whatever they fancy
I was busy taking it all in, the head in a relaxed state, minus any kind of a spin
Had the banter, going at good pace
A steady canter
Suddenly I wondered when my next poem might appear
So I got chatting to a pretty girl who from the look in her eyes might like to grab my hand, take me out onto the makeshift dance floor for a swirl
I thought about this, and if we did end up together I might have to omit some parts
No need to be crass, end up all too open, describing each and every inch when it came to her body parts
I guess that may just be the gentleman in me, no real need to wax lyrical when it comes to these things
I’m no player, just a fella who dreams of one day becoming an acclaimed writer with a fine woman by my side, one who doesn’t find me too left of centre
Rather the man who she can depend upon, the one who can step up to the plate when it comes to defending her
All I want to do is my thing, be that poetry writing, whatever
Bottom line is this, I really am just an honest chancer, seemingly getting by on a wing and a prayer

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