This used to be <br />my neck of the woods. <br /> <br />Adolescence discovered <br />me here. <br /> <br />The same car park <br />is still to be seen <br /> <br />where I would do <br />all my necking. <br /> <br />It was 'treeish' <br />on that side <br /> <br />helping to conceal <br />all greedy gropes <br />all ilicit feels. <br /> <br />Furtive kisses <br />steaming up my glasses. <br /> <br />But the best <br />place to hide <br /> <br />was inside <br />our front door porch. <br /> <br />Dad never stopping <br />to think <br /> <br />that here <br />(right under his nose) <br /> <br />we would get up <br />(what we would get up to) <br /> <br />when we did the things <br />we would do. <br /> <br />Loving on the edge.<br /><br />Dónall Dempsey<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/loving-on-the-edge/
