The Alley

There is an alley
Not very far from me
That I remember well
From a night in 1983.

It started out with such fun
But didn’t end so very well.
Yet like so often happens
I had a good story to tell.

My date I had left
Before it was very late.
The dinner show we had seen
Had been really great.

She offered to drive me home
But I decided to ride the bus.
This was mistake number one
About which I would later cuss.

Mistake number two
You really shouldn’t hear.
It was when I got off the bus
And went to get a beer.

Then I started walking home
As I had done many times.
Mistake number three
Was not worrying about crimes.

I turned just in time
To avoid being hit
The man who was behind me
I didn’t like one bit.

The next thing I knew
I was in the alley, in the dirt.
Two men were robbing me;
I feared I would be hurt.

And it is true, as they say
Stars you see when hit in the head
Robbed I was; hurt I was
But at least I wasn’t dead.

When ever I walk past the alley
I cannot help but look
And remember how mad I was
When my favorite watch they took.

jhs