“Where’s your sense of adventure?” Kev inquired,
since it wasn’t his puppy in the fight.
“I don’t know. What if she’s uninspired?”
I replied, wishing I had his insight.
“You’ll make none of the shots you never take,”
the old gunner said. “Don’t you want to score?”
Of course I did, but I’d never be a rake
like him, with girls lined up outside my door.
Blinded by his courage, I called her room,
first checking if it was too late an hour.
But a guy answered, like the voice of doom:
“Karen can’t come now, she’s in the shower.”
Thus, I never became a Lothario.
Why tempt another worst case scenario?
Day 2 of the NaPoWriMo April Poem-a-Day Challenge. A “worst case” poem. Mulling a “best case” one, but we all know loss and failure are my métier.