At Paul’s

Quatern

Roen Naska
Poetry in Form

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Photo: Schoepfergeist / Pixabay | Edit: Canva

Tonight he’s at Paul’s ’til three
Constantly aware of his jack
But he drinks that to be free
He is not a maniac.

Ordered twice, he didn’t care
Tonight he’s at Paul’s ’til three
Earlier, he wasn’t but there
106 marked on his key

Just some minutes before he’d flee
He’d be having his private time
Now he’s at Paul’s ’til three,
Regretting ‘bout he’s only crime

He’d stab her with all his power,
When she useful no more would be
Let her pale body in the shower
Now he’s at Paul’s ’til three

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I'm 17. The writer of one novel, looking forward to write the second this year. Writing is an incredible feeling. I want it to be all mine.