The dream girl at first
glance,
From New York to London.
She was a bold one for chance,
Making herself graciously
see fit,
For an East End lad's
Blackwall wits.
He went home to a darkened
room,
Sat alone amongst pictures
of the past,
People and memories gone
miscast.
The phone pulled him from
reality,
Or what he perceived it at
best.
It was her at happenstance,
In an idle moment of
silence.
He gulped and took his chance,
Brushed away shards of
glass,
From love's shattered
pride.
There they went dancing
down Oxford Street,
Her dapper green scarf
calmly flapping back,
Only two amongst millions on a brisk afternoon.
Flicked his cigarette and placed roses at her feet,
Found charm in the words that they would lack,
Heavy hearts cracked - it was all too soon.
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