"You are young, Princess A," the bald man said,
"And your liver is somewhat inept
And yet you continue to drink to excess.
Do you honestly think it correct?"

"In my youth," gulped the princess, "I suffered abuse;
Was in danger of going astray,
So now that I'm happy, I drink to confess
And it's great, 'til the following day."

"But you're killing yourself in a terrible way,"
Whined the desperate, elderly gent.
"You smoke like wet bonfires in autumn, and still
There is nothing to damp your intent."

"You know nothing," she jabbed "and like this, never will
Yet you sit there and criticise me.
Get confident, please! Find a girlfriend and then
You just may be beginning to see.

"Do you know what you're saying? Impossible crap,"
Scowled the introvert, cracking his thumb.
"You don't seem to see what you like about me
But you should know by now I'm not dumb.

"I don't want to jump at some quiet little thing
Who is likely to panic and run.
I want true romance, so I leave things to chance
Though it certainly isn't much fun."

The princess just sighed as her cigarette died,
"But we don't want to see you like this.
I love you, we like you, you're such a nice man:
You need someone to cuddle and kiss."

So they drank a few more, and the room disappeared
And the dandelions pricked up their ears.
"We talk about you," she informed her own feet,
And the pensioner's eyes filled with tears.