Three hours since noon, and the potato's gone,
Cauldy ignored Ling's pleading song.
She warned him once, she warned him twice
But spud in hand broke his thin ice.

No time to waste, he cracked the drink,
Down went the tinny, in a blink
Ling’s eyes held scorn, her patience worn,
By one small gulp, a vow was torn.

Now bottles clink where love once stayed,
All from the choices Cauldy made.
A baked potato, then a glass,
And in that moment, hope slipped past.