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Poetry
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| Night a rest... | |
| By Steve_K | ||||
| 08 January 2008 | ||||
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I awake to find myself Locked in a room A police station cell I imagine Just a bed In the corner A hole in the ground My belt has been taken My shoes are missing Afraid I'd commit the worst I stand at the door Looking through the perspex slit Staring into nothingness Nothingness being all I wonder what I've done Robbed a shop? Killed a man? All in my pie-eyed position I sleep again till I wake Prodded by a large unsightly sergeant Into soberness with thumping head And pumping regret What a fucking cliche Drunken sailor and all that Drunken disorder My good record gets me off The rush of fresh January air Hits my face like a train I walk to the bus station Smoking a cigarette on the way Shielding my eyes from the spurious Spring Sun
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