Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
Every night, when the sun disappears behind the tenements, I sit on my balcony to witness the sinister congregation pooled under the lone flickering streetlamp. Fueled on petrol, they holler explicit expletives holding their palms high in the air Heiling Hitlers as they middle-finger the scooting passer-byers. And I think to myself, what ******* fools, they'd be the first to go if the **** ever went down, carrying their inked swastikas like totally clueless mad clowns.
0
May 20, 2014
May 20, 2014 at 7:32 AM UTC
Mad Clowns
Every night, when the sun disappears behind the tenements, I sit on my balcony to witness the sinister congregation pooled under the lone flickering streetlamp. Fueled on petrol, they holler explicit expletives holding their palms high in the air Heiling Hitlers as they middle-finger the scooting passer-byers. And I think to myself, what ******* fools, they'd be the first to go if the **** ever went down, carrying their inked swastikas like totally clueless mad clowns.
jonny-angel
Written by
American
May 20, 2014
May 20, 2014 at 7:32 AM UTC
Request permission to use this poem