Graffiti Poet

Maybe because I am so old
and dodging coffins so I'm told,
I much prefer the olden ways
that worked so well in bygone days.

For every date you ever had
would need the say so of her Dad,
he'd ring your ears with "Don't be late"
to mark the start of every date.

You knew full well what you would get
if given deadlines were not met,
from fathers watching most irate
the parting kiss across the gate.

Most Dads would glare through blazing eyes
to see their daughters wave goodbyes,
and cursed most fierce their rotten luck
to see their Princess growing up.

You stood beneath the clock at eight
for girls arriving slightly late,
behind your back a flowered hand
and tickets to a dancing band.

You waited sometimes in the rain
with other men who did the same,
and wondered if this pretty Miss
would bless you with a goodnight kiss.

It often came as quite a shock
to watch the finger on the clock,
go past the twelve and to the five
yet still your date did not arrive.

Then came at last the twenty four
the one which stops outside her door,
and from this bus your date would come
her face as warm as Summer sun.

Back then your heart would skip a beat
as she came walking down the street,
you couldn't help but soon forget
the waiting time and getting wet.

You held her hand and walked awhile
enchanted by her lovely smile,
and talked of nothings all the way
to where you'd dance the night away.

A man back then stood half a chance
of finding love or new romance,
and no-one ever questioned then
who bought the drinks, it was the men.

Too soon the chosen hour had come
you took her home to Dad and Mum,
and asked of her a second date
this time for chips served on a plate.

I sometimes curse this Internet
so full of promise but still yet,
a date today is hard to find
so tough it almost blows your mind.

I'm not so sure that modern ways
have brought us only better days,
and think the times of way back when
should be revived and come again.

So for my few remaining days
my rule shall be no lady pays,
not for the first drink nor the last
just as it was in times gone past.

And so to end this sad lament
to gain the most from money spent,
the gentleman's the one who pays
just like it was in bygone days...

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