It doesn't look like you walk easy,
In your coloured pencil skirt,
And this smattering of awkwardness,
Makes me feel that you might blurt,
Out something inappropriate,
In social situations,
And yet despite these faux pas,
You still get invitations.
You'll have a mind that's bright and sharp,
And perhaps slightly shy,
And don't look like one for bungee jumps,
Or steak and kidney pie.
You might not have a boyfriend,
But the offers surely flow,
Whilst never quite convincing you,
So your chances come, then go.
And now you're moving past me,
In your bright and awkward way,
Lost to me forever more,
As I had nothing to say.
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