I look to my left....over my shoulder <br />I look to my right....behind my back <br />Thinking I am safe I venture out <br />from the security of my guarded position <br /> <br />located directly behind the imposters <br />who have been following me <br />for these last few miserable days <br />Smelling nothing in the brisk night air <br /> <br />apart from some stale donuts and cold coffee <br />left sitting on the uninhabited outside table <br />of a closed dinner.... my mind <br />empty of all nourishment looks for a Cop <br /> <br />My appetite speaks to me repeatedly <br />in words I can understand 'Feed me', it says, <br />'My soul is empty and the acid <br />is eating away at my ironclad stomach' <br /> <br />I used to have the guts for all this killing <br />but of late it has lost a lot of the thrill <br />It must be some sort of revelation+<br /><br />Ted Sheridan<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/baghdad-after-dark/
