Miss Conceit Poem by Francis Duggan

There's a woman in High Street
And they call her Miss Conceit
And because she's a professional this maid
Thinks she really has it made.

She can't boast of comeliness
As she's just a plain looking miss
And she doesn't make men's pulses race
For she doesn't have a pretty face.

Miss Conceit has all but now resigned
To the fact that Mr Right is hard to find
And working class men are not for her
Business tycoons she prefer.

As marriage goes she has one plan
And that's to wed a wealthy man
But wealthy man like to adorn his life
With an attractive looking wife.

Her thirtieth birthday is near
She was twenty nine last year
And she's gone from the girlie stage
Almost thirty years of age.

She must know time is not on her side
Her drawbacks common looks and pride
And with her sort of mentality
A spinster she's destined to be.

For you maid there's a lesson here
Don't place yourself above your peer
Or you could be like Miss Conceit
The future spinster of High Street.