Silent Assumptions

It doesn't look like you walk easy,
In your coloured pencil skirt,
And this smattering of awkwardness,
Makes me feel that you might blurt,
Out something inappropriate,
In social situations,
And yet despite these faux pas,
You still get invitations.
You'll have a mind that's bright and sharp,
And perhaps slightly shy,
And don't look like one for bungee jumps,
Or steak and kidney pie.
You might not have a boyfriend,
But the offers surely flow,
Whilst never quite convincing you,
So your chances come, then go.
And now you're moving past me,
In your bright and awkward way,
Lost to me forever more,
As I had nothing to say.

Back In The Narrows

I have ventured back to hell,
Sent here by faceless powers,
Yet this time in control.
Liberated by my view,
I cast eyes over a place,
That before now roared my name.
The sentient threat,
Whose grasp I dodged,
Before I had to run.
But now it's quiet here,
My purpose held aloft,
As an ethereal shield.
I pass through this place unseen,
By the thing I fought before.
And soon, my fleeting view complete,
I will run away once more,
With memories painted fresh,
But banished too,
Of that horror long ago.

Gull

I perch atop a statue,
Or maybe a lamppost,
Screaming my cry,
Yet mostly ignored.
My pinpoint eye,
Tracking all that moves,
And watching for stray sandwiches,
Or crisps,
Or a bin bag I might try to rip.
You may recoil at the thought,
Of my scavenger life,
But notice me!
My upright stance,
I preen, my eyes sharp,
I can slice through the air,
In ways that you can only dream,
I am a proud, majestic creature,
With no use for your pity.
Indeed, I perch atop my statue,
And merrily smirk,
At your humble lives.