BYGONE DAYS
by 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...
The end