On a City Quay

A constant drizzle

Hits a pavement

Wet…

A hanging sky

Just waits

A city’s quay hides

A menacing face

As darkness gathers

before a silent moon

The stranger sees anger

In a contorted shape

The grey-headed man

Is a bullied child

His face badly bruised

Dirty red…swollen

On the left

The bully

Stamps his mark

Then, another interjects

The mood intense

This view temporary

Through a frame

A window pane

Then, it’s gone…

Thatcher Doran

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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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