Cheerio! - Poem by Ernestine Northover
The hackney carriage has pulled up at the door, what more could one ask for.
Off on a unknown trip, one last zip to do up on the case.
He’ll leave no trace of having been here, not at all.
He hadn’t had a ball, now it was time to move on, soon he would be gone.
Made no real friends, this is where it ends.
Bags stowed away in the taxi, lifts in the Dachsy and then they’ll be off.
One last look at what was home, and across the road at the Hippodrome.
He never went in there, perhaps he was too square.
Meters, logging up the cost.
Feeling kind of lost.
Loneliness feels like a disease, at least he’s got the dog,
but with him there is no dialogue, just a one way conversation,
with no elation.
Ah, well. What will be will be, perhaps he’ll join the military.
He’s leaving now, he has to go.
© Ernestine Northover
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