Tuesday, 14 October 2014

Free verse poetry

Maybe they're normal. Or not? The stabbing wasn't, but he was mostly to blame
Either way it was the past
The crazy is still there though, definitely
Somehow loveable, despite the scars, despite the arrogance, despite the past
Outside the kings arms, they're hard to miss, with their stranger-brought JD & coke, smoking a cheap fag, a folded bike jacket in one arm

The room is messy & cluttered, nothing of particular significance
It's only temporary, it seems it always is, clothes half unpacked from boxes, draped carelessly across the few surfaces about the room
Not welcoming to stranger nor friend

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