the sound of the whistle of the outward bound
    teased the still night with its earthy timbre
and i suffered the pangs of a poor  lad, found
nursing a dream about getting away from it all
           like a learned doctor i was on call
              an order i knew was rather tall
                       if calamity struck
                   in the heat of the night
                            with my bags
                                  packed
                   and my naivety ablaze
                                just waiting
                                      for
               ­             a reason to go
                                slip away
                   into the hungry darkness
                   and never ever look back