Chances

The blower of second chances

The aquireror or unrequited romances,

The stumbler through many death-defying dances,

The giver of third glances,

Blows that landed on him like lances,

Pierced the heart but grazed the cheek like a lover's entrances,

Lazy-eyed love, the languid look full of nuances,

But that the chance is the chances,

Were slim to skin and bone, do none, no nothing to enhance

His days were done long in advance,

His chances blown, like his finances,

Thrown away with all those fiancés 

First second, second third?

What were the chances?

He blew them all,

And off he dances