JB (2055 / Earth)


Im walking.
Hood up.
On the phone.
I shut up.
Theres a man,
Tall and broad.
Why do I hesitate
To walk towards.

'I'll call back in a mo.'
And I hang up the phone.
I stare at this man,
Now my heads in the zone.
He quickens his pace,
And when in arms reach,
He swings at my face and
Personal boundries are breached.


He's far too big,
So I run like the wind.
When I stop running,
The cut starts to stinng.
Collapse to my knees.
Stomachs churning.
I throw up.
That was disturbing.

User Rating: 5 / 5 ( 0 votes ) 22

Comments (22)

Love this, brilliantly penned
Pam.you have got right mix of ingredients while cooking or writing.Thanks for sharing this lovely poem. Wish you a very Happy New Year.
Jette, you already are that good poet! This is an awesome write! All of the write ingredients went into this very enjoyable poem. Loved it!
Brilliant, Jette. Every poem must have its ingredients. And like the delicacies of those great chefs, those ingredients may appear and reappear as new works are finished. The real skill may be in combining those ingredients in such different ways each time, that the recipe never tastes quite the same. This goes to my favourites list.
very nice loved it well penned
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