In The End

You can with skill shape and hone, reduce errors to the bone,
imitate each virtue known, leave a message at the tone
without any grunt or groan. In the end you're still alone.

You can whittle fiddle-sticks, hear audible Big Ben ticks,
master great magician tricks, risk bungee-jumping for kicks,
employ gadgets and gimmicks. In the end you're still betwixt.

You can run but never hide or pretend that you have died,
attempt everything untried, demonstrate a haughty pride,
act as if self-satisfied. In the end you're still denied.

You can always dish the dirt and allegations assert,
show emergency alert, behave as a reckless flirt,
embarrass to disconcert. In the end you're still the hurt.

You can mix and commingle, feel the excitements tingle,
hear the wedding bells jingle. On a deep valley dingle
build a cottage of shingle. In the end you're still single.