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.
- CRACK -
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.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem