One of my closest friends, Hannah, has very bad luck with guys. She has some very funny stories. I wrote a Shakespearean sonnet about one of her experiences.
I rush and sit down for class in a huff.
Glowing pink, I glance around the room.
A pair of eyes, steely, cold, and tough
I double take and make contact. My doom.
Is with a quick, untimely jerk, I move,
Feeling your eyes slowly sliding off me,
Wondering if beneath a desk I dove
Would be less plain than my red glow – splotchy!
Ev’ry class, this look occurs without a glitch
Til finally, I get courage and ask
If you had feelings and, without a hitch,
Wanted to go out with me – what a task!
Alas, you said, it simply is not so,
You had a girlfriend, of course – oh no!