The Disillusioned Dissolute

Of an evening late
Oft times I would wait
For a click clack
To relieve my lack.

In the street below
Feet would come and go.
Heels would approach
And broach …

Or in the dark
Car park
A door would bang,
Which rhymes with twang.

Looking back, I recall
Bang
And twang
And fall.

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One thought on “The Disillusioned Dissolute

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