Mosaic of a Pub Punch Up

as the glass smashes on the worn, wooden floor,

it signals all out war,

In the limbo of a moment, a chair strikes an elderly gent,

he replies with a hammer blow,

this is happening ever so slow.

just as I take my seat,

a man is struck with an unfriendly kiss,

catching my drink; blood shoots from his face,

I recall a single broken glass started all of this,

splatters of blood and shards of glass at my feet.

Mosaic of a pub punch up on this street, blue lights flash outside,

the night is abruptly done,

and with no beer spilt and no blood shed,

I'll take it I won.