I really want to be The Bachelor,
Inviting morsels for me to trawl,
Flicking them off, so spectacular,
I wish I could taste them all!

And I find The One, The Only One,
“My love is like a red, red, rose”,
The final, millions watch, she’s won,
A moment in time that froze.

But is it real this game of love?
Is it only a scripted illusion?
Parts are acted, producers shove,
All in all, a romantic delusion.

To be The Bach my looks will hinder,
I’ll go back to finding real love on Tinder.

© Neil Dufty