The Net Poem by Hazel Connelly

The net's a big headache
I need a bloke you see
I search and search for hours
But can't get one for free.

I bought myself a web cam
I thought I could chat and play
But there weren't any blokey blokes
Only the ones that were gay.

Hang on! Who's this?
It's a blokey figure
Reminds me of my granddad
But my granddad's thinner.

Says his name's Bertie
Asks if I'm into leather
Then he says I'm a bore
‘could've knocked me down with a feather.

Oh Wait! I must be dreaming
I see a tanned blokee
I smile at his picture
He smiles back at me.

He speaks, I can't hear him,
He hears, but can't see,
I think my PC's broken
Why does it happen to me?

I think I'm in love
I hope he feels the same,
Oh damn! My PC's crashed
And I never got his name..