Do you know what it’s like to make yourself an ass?

To fail without style, elegance or class?

When you take a gamble with mammoth stakes

The mind boggles and the heart aches

It’s a tragic error, reminiscent of Hamlet

And the egg on your face leaves you ruing the gambit

How on earth can you erase the stigma

Of your lack-of-appeal and behaviour enigma?

She’ll always prefer a man with height

But the opposite is you and becomes your blight

Oh the anguish of falling short, no pun intended

There’s no consolation for your affections deflected

Little comfort to learn that she considers you friend

As the road you’ve pursued hits a dead-end

Perhaps one day she’ll change her mind

Beyond her ideals she’ll prefer to be kind

To give you the chance you’ve deserved for a while

Wipe the egg from your face and uncover a smile

How grand it would be to rise from the fall

For on that day, you’re ten feet tall