Nonsense 62 Poem by Phil Soar

Nonsense 62



The peak of my cap hides a secret
My eyes like piss-holes in the snow
Unsure of the steps I am taking
Unsure where my feet want to go
Looking down at the cold pavement
I can just see the cracks in the slabs
Maybe I should tell that new barman
To reduce the limit on my tabs

Thursday, November 26, 2015
Topic(s) of this poem: nonsense
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