A Flat In Paddington
The city spreads its streets like long
Tentacles that stretch and twine,
As looming Evil weaves a webbed design
Around the bustling, London throng.
But North of Marble Arch is bleak
Praed Street, where the shadows gloom,
And Solar Pons sits musing in his room
Of criminals he’ll subtly seek.
Copyright © Steve Eng | Year Posted 2009
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