The Women In Leather Poem by Bella Lack

The Women In Leather

When the hand strikes twelve, night permeates,
Drunkards stagger alongside their mates.
Children nestled, huddled in sheets,
This is the time she covertly meets.
The street’s as silent as the drop of a feather.
slinking through alleys, cloaked in leather.
As sly as a fox, as wise as an owl,
An expression so malicious, topped with a scowl.
Your dreams will turn sour, the temperature will tumble,
Every cobble she brushes, will instantly crumble.
Street lights a flicker, plunged into gloom,
Slide the bolts and hole up in your room.
If you hear a soft tap tap tap at your door,
The women in Leather is hungry for more.
Do not answer, ignore the soft sound,
Don’t just accept that you’ve been found.
Swaddle yourself in your thick, Winter coat,
She’ll accept defeat, and away she’ll float.
You have won this battle you fight every night,
Wake up now into the yellow day so bright.
Your nightmare has departed to a place far away,
Because now it is a brand new day