SATURDAY POEM.  

Wet Streets,
And Linen Sheets,
Condom kiss,
And clouds appear,
 Panic,

In dawns early mist,
Crowds appear,
Frustrated Kids,
When seeking last nights 
 Kiss,

Crunching Peppermints,
Turning colour,
Blood and Fire,

Our Boys are Kicking,
And another Generation are waiting,
Men are betting,
Waiting for the Screws of the World..