A poem with a play on words
|Romantically, each page he turned,
Benny found he was always burned.
His latest pangs were for pert Babette.
On her his heart was newly set.
He asked her out not once but thrice.
Each time she said the same, “no dice.”
Alone, forlorn, and tired of strife,
He chose to end his cheerless life.
With little care and less prepare,
He sought to do what most won’t dare.
Teetering along a rib thin ridge,
Benny broke from the Brooklyn Bridge.
A ship watch seeing the fateful plunge,
Pulled Benny up with one swift lunge.
“What caused this leap,” the watchman rasped.
When Benny explained, the sailor gasped.
“Man up, go back; be strong and straight.
Don’t bend until you’ve made that date.”
Benny pondered, but took the chance.
He asked Babette to dinner and dance.
But seconds after this fourth time try,
She slammed the door with no reply.
Benny went back to being himself.
His love life tucked back on the shelf.
From this account, there’s a lesson learned:
A Benny saved is a Benny spurned.