Romcom Poem

'We could go for dinner.
Our first date. Have a pizza.
Maybe at Pizza Express?' Yes!
7 p.m. He'll finally meet her.

But the city is big.
There are two Pizza Express.
She waits at one. And, as
you might guess,

he's at the other. We saw
that coming. But, to
cut a long story short,
get together they do.

The restaurant mix-up will,
when they're old and grey,
make a funny story, but there's
no need to think about that today.

Anyway, they hit it off but,
in bed, when they attempt to...
he can't rise to the occasion.
What's wrong? He hasn't a clue.

He really fancies her. Maybe
it's the wine. Maybe it's nerves.
Should he get dressed and go?
'Hell no,' she says and gives

him a lovely big kiss right on the
end of his...But by this time
I've had enough (such predictable stuff!).
I abruptly exit my poem.

You should too. The End.