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A Cloud of Smoke

Fifteen lines

When you walk into the crowded café

You think that everyone notices you

That their heart rate increases a little

That they feel a small stirring down below

That women want you, men to be you

You always expect that there will be a

Table waiting for you and your partner

Be it girlfriend or a business colleague

What lies beneath this confident surface?

Is it just a veneer, a cloud of smoke?

Is there perhaps a frightened little boy

Quaking in his wardrobe, wet pyjamas?

Hoping that dad won't find him before mum?

His voice filling the ether 'Be a man'

Her voice softly whispering 'Don't worry'

'A young man standing in his own shadow' - Giant Glove

Read next: Workplace
Paul Conneally
Paul Conneally

Paul Conneally is a Cultural Forager, poet and artist. 

He writes on culture in its widest sense from art to politics, music and science and all points between.

His Twitter handle is @littleonion and on Instagram he is @little___onion

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A Cloud of Smoke
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