A penny for your thoughts, my dear, in this time of recession.
They’re only worth a pittance, since you’re in deep depression—
perhaps the worst since man evolved from the primordial slime.
If I cared less, I’d offer zilch, but now is not the time
to be looking for bargains, with your love so newly won.
If only we could ditch our masks and have a little fun—
a little kiss, a little hug, a cuddle and a snuggle—
it might be easier to woo without these rules to juggle.
But from day-to-day, I fear, we never can know whether
we’ll spend the day alone again or spend the day together.
So here’s a penny for your thoughts. Oh hell, it’s worth a nickel
to know whether your heart is true or if it has turned fickle.
It’s been said before that absence makes the heart grown fonder.
I wonder if you feel the same sequestered over yonder.