deepundergroundpoetry.com

You never expect the Spanish Inquisition

 
It's an evening when you only need a tee shirt,
when one drink would lead to a drowning
and the easily encouraged are searching
for an excuse to swallow chaos with a chaser.

The house sits on a threshold of indecision
and I know a choice must be made, not delayed.
Girlfriends flat? sat quiet in that lap, a fly in a trap,
Out with the lads? binge till I'm sad, wished I hadn't.

There's a fork in the road ahead, but instead
I turn around, walk back over the railway bridge,
past the derelict farm house, up the side of the valley
and look down at myself going our different ways.
Written by Razzerleaf
Published
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