the eighteen-fifty five

leaves on time

but from the wrong


the train driver was caught


i was fine , til i sat

in the seat

energy deserting my body

as if

it was late, for a previous


no good bye

just fled….

the weigh of the day


the numbness of nothingness

my vacant stare

but the evening sky

is blue

smiling with an innocence

making a mockery of my

self pity

my stupidity

my licence to brood


and then my eyelids slipped


By  Paolo Michell

About pmisteil

Hi, my name is Paul though I write under other names like, Thatcher and Paolo, I love literature, art and architecture their passion and drama....the contradictions. The notion of Truth-who is the person behind the mask? Or does it matter! I like long walks and longer conversations over cappuccinos in a cafe with atmosphere and the rest is a journey!
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