The Bet Poem by Paul Warren
The Bet
Back away
I can't see in the dark
A touch on the shoulder
My hair stands up
Why did I decide
To spend the night
For fifty quid
What am idiot.
© Paul Warren Poetry
Friday, May 19, 2017
Topic(s) of this poem: scared
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4/16/2024 11:42:32 AM # 1.0.0.1119
It sounds like the last motel I had to stay at. who needs a bet like that!