Swollen....

he staggered a little
as he walked against the cold.
he was an old man, his hair long,
his beard unkept.
his clothes were ragged, his coat torn.

at the head of the alley,
they had the young girl's car
blocked in. she was out of the
car and trying to fight them
off.
one of the thugs slapped her.
the old man heard her cry for
help as she fell.
picking up an empty bottle,
he lunged into the fray, swinging
wildly and making animal sounds.
he caught one of the boys on the
side of the head as the bottle
shattered.
pulling his knife from his pocket,
he stabbed the second one just as he
caught a blow to the face.
he turned in a bloody rage as the third
boy ran.

wobbled, he heard the girl. 'c'mon, get
in with me... we've got to go! '
he heard the sound of the sirens as he
fell into the seat...

poem by Eric CockrellReport problemRelated quotes
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