Flood Gate

This one time, I must have been about ten.
I was walking down the street to the corner White Hen.
This was in Racine, Wisconsin.
We had just recently moved in.
And this part of town wasn’t that great,
So, I walked a cautious, steady gait.
A funny feeling soon opened fear to a full flood gate.
I tried to turn around but it was already too late.
I was surrounded by seven or eight young teens,
And they told me, “Don’t try to scream.
Just reach in your pocket and give us your green.”
I pulled out some change and a pocket knife.
I had planned to use it in case of some strife,
But fear had me in its grip so tight.
So, I just gave it to them,
And somehow, walked away with my life.

© Christopher Allen Breidinger

Excerpt from the book “Poet Christopher’s
Scenes, Dreams, and Golden Schemes”

http://www.ctupublishinggroup.com/christopher-allen-breidinger.html

• Also available on Amazon.com by Title

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