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The Thing

Scott Whitby, 2020


Pretty girls

But always so far

Tried hard to know

But didn't have a nice car


Fancy girls

Clothes so neat

Perfect hair

But not me to meet


College girls

"What's your major?" I'd say

They never answered

Just turned away


City girls

Boys like me they ignored

They were afraid

I'd make them be bored


Made me wonder

What's wrong with me?

I'm tall, not ugly

What do they not see?


They wanted handsome

Charisma and groomed

Not awkward and odd

That would be doom!


The boys they liked

The boys they sought

Were not like me

And easily caught


Where are they now?

Is everything good?

Are they satisfied and rich

Like they thought they would?


Are their husband's teeth

Shiny and white?

Do their muscles still quiver?

Was the future found bright?


Or is he less interesting

Or maybe found sterile?

His dark skin and six-pack

More like a barrel?


I wonder today

What Kay thought she saw

Where the others didn't

Or did she see at all?


If she felt what I did

She never was scared

Awkward didn't matter

Odd caused her no care


Years later I wonder

Would I have the same life?

If I'd asked her her major

Would she be my wife?

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