She smiled at me across the room,
With eyes that shone with deep desire;
And whispered hints, of rosebud bloom;
That set to plump, my manly fire.
With eyes that shone with deep desire,
She spoke with words that made me blush;
She touched my heart with mortar fire;
with images that I longed to touch.
I took a breath... I hid my crutch,
Then spoke to her of passion’s flame;
To which she said I had the: "common touch,"
And that I should: "...never speak to her again!"
So I sit here all alone once more,
With nothing that will lift my mood;
And ponder on what I should have said;
as)she smiled at me across the room.