If Fear Catches Me


He didn’t want to be

But he was, alone.

Even his third man factor had gone.

The wind bit his face.

Dawgs on his arse.

Getting was good but the good was sparse.

Damning the torpedoes.

Ziggin’ on the zag.

Climbin’ out the box when it isn’t his bag.


Barry Williams http://barry-williams.com/blog

Much of what I write will be quite understandable to insane folks.

The rest will be, uh, less understandable...

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