Unknown

The first English poem I tried writing.

Climbing along the footpath, thinking nothing on aftermath

The top of hill was in sunshine bath

The city far away, the brea along the bay

Touching them like a runaway

Finding a wall in front,  seemingly no way forefront

But still a way I could confront

Wandering along the mysterious wall, realising the way wasn't banal

The scenario at the end was bound to enthral