All Thumbs
Oh man alive, at sixty five
I’ve something to confess:
I never thought I’d find myself
such a befuddled mess.
It started out so innocent
inviting her to lunch;
the convo stayed mostly on track,
but then it swerved a bunch.
See, feeling coy, this stupid boy
thought he’d get cute and flirt.
From winsome one to two left feet,
a face plant in the dirt.
As I hit send, the doubt set in:
were those the proper words?
Whoever thought I’d be like this?
A grown man, how absurd!
The seconds pass like hours
as frets bloom full regret;
she’ll likely think the worst of me,
what do you want to bet?
And so, confused, I sit and stew,
increasingly perplexed.
But wait! I hear a joyful noise:
in came another text!
It doesn’t matter what it says;
she ended with a smile!
Thank goodness, I‘m still in the clear,
‘least for a little while!
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