Saturday, 10 September 2011

WALKABOUTSVERSE 35 OF 230

Poem 35 of 230:  GROWING UP

During my early twenties,
    At one of Europe’s cities,
I was walking late at night
    When I came upon this sight:
A street woman seemed dying,
    But viewers just kept eyeing.
And, in my often regret,
    I, too, did no more than fret.

Then, in my early thirties,
    At one of Baja’s cities,
I was walking late at night
    When I came upon this sight:
A young hombre was bleeding,
    But viewers just kept leaving.
This time, I made the grown bet,
    And soon his strong needs were met.

(C) David Franks 2003