Last Chance by Nathan Jones Photography

I gave my last chance to you

The king of the night lays upon his king-size bed,
Upon which, by day, the busker plays his predictable tune,
A dreary ditty from the 70s,
To which only the young sing enthusiastic.

The man sleeps, as the night creeps
The clatter of heels, tripping,
laughter and falling, and in the morning,
“Where the fuck am I?”, he says

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