The Stalker
I rose from my chair at the bar
I noticed his face had a scar
His leering gaze, gave me a scare
At the bar I rose from my chair
For the door I moved so coyly
His face was potted and oily
I hoped he would look for a whore
So coyly I moved for the door
Into the street I took my leave
Hoping my absence would deceive
A gentleman I’m afraid to meet
I took my leave into the street
I felt his breath behind my back
The night was cold as it was black
Shivering now as I knew death
Behind my back, I felt his breath
I quickened my pace, down the street
Terrified at the sound of his feet
I couldn’t stand to look at his face
Down the street, I quickened my pace
Pulled me near, his hand on my arm
I knew that this man would do me harm
This all confirmed my greatest fear
His hand on my arm pulled me near
Catching my eye, his shiny blade
I lost any hope that I had made
The last thing I see before I die
His shiny blade catching my eye

















Keep your golden in flowing and branch out as far as possible. There is not limit to which the imagination can take us. This was absolutely brilliant. Kudos my dear friend and thank you for sharing. Best wishes in the contest, it sounds golden. Love and God bless, Joyce











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