With a bottle in one hand
And the other one clasped
Into a fist, he walked.
Stomping in the corridor
Past the beautiful girl
Who liked herself too well.
Sang songs her father knew
About floods of blood-
Calling them all names.
Hers based on one thing. Football
He half slurred insults
More on derby days.
Football was their religion-
She only went to midnight mass,
He quoted the bible wrongly.
He made his way
Past the man who lusted for her
She flirted, but would not give in.
A bottle in one hand
The other one clasped-
Fist her father knew.
Comments
-
Powerful but simple. Concrete imagery, and very very British I really liked it, great job xx
Adding your comment:
