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A bar where I don't belong
A new sign was hung outside a building near me.
'Bar now open'
I was only walking past.
It looked so homely; I thought to give it a blast.
I hurdled in with discretion to see
wallpaper of a boring, upper-class taste.
A hanger for coats, bags and umbrellas loitered inside the entrance door.
I assumed that's for the comfort of dedicated or distinguished members.
YOU ARE READING
Oceans Of Ink
PoetrySheldon Sinnamon's debut 92 page poetry collection 'Oceans Of Ink' His realistic views on the nitty-gritty ways of life and love, shows some coming of age dark humour and meaningful content. He aims to be something you don't read often. "There is ce...
