Holiday Fauxmance

Oh sure 
He's saying all the right things now 
But you mark my words 
He will forget all about you 
As soon as the next 
Passably pretty 
Supermorbidlyobese 
Middle-aged lady 
Who looks like she has money 
And a passport to a good country 
And a stamp on her forehead screaming ‘lonely’ 
Comes along 
And perches herself precariously 
On the woefully undersized 
Bar stool seat