Well for the sake of the story,

let’s call him Ron

Didn’t meet him on a Monday

nor did my heart stand still.

Just a good old fashioned,

uncomplicated relationship,

oops sorry, meant complicated

 

We were in love, (or so he told me)

I was the only one for him (the lying b......)

He made me feel so very special

(you have to fake it sometimes)

We were an imperfect match

 

On dates we always went Dutch,

and he nearly always paid me back,

his half at the end of the month.

That’s why he was so romantic and thoughtful

If he had a win on the horses or dogs,

he would always share it by buying me a drink

 

He asked me to marry him, it didn’t take long

for me to answer, a no brainer!

He didn’t have any brains but I still said NO.

(No point in marrying him out of pity)

 

Anyway, back to the poetry...

He was good, he was bad, he was mean but fair,

no he was bald, I didn’t mean his hair

 

Every time he flashed a smile at me,

I could see down his throat, what he’d had for his tea

Always yawning, burping or far much worse

Then borrowing money from out of me purse

 

Needless to say I was too far gone

To appreciate the attributes of alias Ron

It was easier to go and get steaming drunk

Than pretend I loved him and put up a front

Well it just isn’t how it used to be, but never mind,

there’s plenty more fish in the sea!

The Urban Poet 2019