Girls like you don’t end up with guys like me.
They end up with trust-fund womanizers,
Society weddings and genteel emptiness.
And when their entitled husband’s mistress,
Get dealt a bitter blow by their hands, they wonder
What has happened to the little girl
Who once tamed fire and rode winds
Of ideals and improbabilities.
Girls like you don’t end up with guys like me.
We get to settle eventually, for and from,
Playing the familiar roles while charting
Courses for upward mobility of family.
And when vicissitudes deals a new blow,
We dig deep from the base of your memory,
Fuelled by the knowledge of this moment,
Buoyed by light of your smile.
Girls like you don’t end up with guys like me.
So allow me to be the fool for a second and dream,
Basking in the aura of your essence and being,
Wishing for a convergence of mutual feelings.
And if by chance we meet, at the airport
Or boardroom or at the next society wedding,
We nod and sigh internally at what never was,
You, me and us.