by joetwo

Upon the day of Valentine

I think that it would be a crime

Not to thank the men who tire

So fledgling romance will catch fire

So many future joys depend

On your wingman, bosom friend


He’s man for when your eye

Your future bride close by does spy

He sets to work like a blood hound

To prepare for you the ground

Asking questions, builds rapport

Holding open the door


But that is not the end of it

Wingmen have to face the pit

The future bride’s troop of “friends”

Working for malicious ends

For all intents they are sent

Our eager lovers union to prevent


Our wingmen works, bold and brave

His friend’s chances for to save

Fights with word and cheesy grin

Not confident that he could win

Yet he, by luck wins their affection

inveigled like a yeast infection


But if you think it is that easy

You’ve got another think sonny

One won’t budge, not a good looker

Dressed up like an old blind hooker

Yet to come to his dear friend’s aid

Our wingman jumps on this grenade


He suffered dearly, worked like a horse

So true love could take its course

And when the wedding days come through

The very least that you can do

Is make this fellow your best man

Ample reward for a wingman