Blinded by Science

She blinded me with science.

I expected razzle dazzle, pomp, panache;

a bass line hook

and a crescendo crash.

Perhaps little birds and love hearts afloat,

holding warm hands

in Autumn coats

but no, nuh uh, not meant to be

for my fair maiden had a chemical science degree.

She made a potion highly potent

– created with a fine mass of math –

until she concluded the correct quotient

to throw in my eyes in a parks path.

‘My eyes, my eyes!’ my voice did bellow

as a hideous goo

poured out, brown and yellow.

The woman claimed to be a nurse –

a simple lie and my life’s curse.

She took me home

and cared for me well,

I fell in love,

fell for her spell.

I got down one day on bended knee

and she said “Over here!”

(because I couldn’t see)

I tried again

and she accepted

but I know her trickery

and now regret it.

We married in a church of glamour

with a funky priest

and black soul jammers.

When we returned from that church

she told me straight

about my curse.

The bitch, she knew my wallet was bulging

and she felt like a bit

of selfish indulging.

“I’m going on honeymoon”

she said with a smirk,

“With a guy called Stavros,

not you, you berk.”

She left me here

and took a plane

for sun, sea and sex

with a Turk in Spain.

Blinded by love?

No, just a fool reliant

on the devious bitch who blinded with science.

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