My night is done.
I have had some fun,
But, once again, I have not won.
There she was, standing there.
She probably saw my furtive glare.
To talk to her, I would not dare
Until at least I had some beer.
From my mind I can not rid
Those little things she said and did.
To think about her, it feels so right.
I might dream about her tonight.
When I rise from bed tomorrow,
I will feel the pain and sorrow
That I feel from time to time
Because I know she is not mine.

R.L.

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