It's kinda hard to imagine your parents.
Gambling on such a game of chance,
Drawing from deep within their communal chests,
To invest in letters of pure Romance,
Despite Larkin's postulations,
On what could possibly be the verse,
I still can't picture my Mum & Dad in a situation,
Like facing teenage 1st Date nerves,
To imagine him frantically polishing up his shoes,
Or fumbling to bu*ton up his shirt,
Or her spraying too much perfume,
And can't find a skirt to match her purse,
I guess it's kinda hard to imagine your parents,
Gambling on such a game of chance,
Where you were just a twinkle in their eyes,
Before a kiss, before a dance.