Читать книгу She Planted Her Own Flowers - Kathlene Suzan Sharpe - Страница 5

I saw a man in a dark suit and a bowler’s hat,

he smiled an odd shaped grin,

I shrugged it off and smiled back at him,

he looked like such a sweet old man.

I saw a man in a trench coat that smelt of whiskey,

so, I hurried past him, on the wrong side of the city,

not wanting to see the prisoners that it keeps.

My day continued on, the strangers I saw were gone,

buried under the paperwork I dread getting lost in,

all of my prior thoughts had been forgotten.

The bells began to toll…it was time to go.

flickering lights of the subway car kept me awake.

eager to get home and retire to bed,

a few more stops, home was an instant away.

Trying hard not to slip upon the icy steps,

at last, I had arrived, finally reaching my bed.

Set my alarm for five and quickly drifted off.

nothing could have woken me.

I never heard the closet door creek,

unable to move, I saw only one thing,

an odd shaped grin staring down at me,

on his breath the faint scent of whiskey.