I take a turn, my feet pace
To a double beat
Down dreary street
I’m clipped of all good fortune
My lip is blue, broken
From the devil’s punch
Blood-winced, I wail,
Like a big-mouthed lion with a repressed paw
I take a turn, my head raw
Up to my latched room
Where I subsist
In pallor
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a little bird tweets 
Nice one… I liked the two last verses and the poetic image related to the blue, broken lip from the devil’s punch!. Thanks for sharing and best wishes to you, Aquileana 😛
Thank you so much, Aquileana, your thoughts are much appreciated. It’s always great to get feedback. Have a lovely weekend 🙂
Harrowing but eloquently communicated. Nice work.
Thanks Mike. Glad you found it harrowing 🙂
Nice one! This line certainly has a ring to it:
“I’m clipped of all good fortune.”
Thank you, John 🙂
Well written. But I hope it didn’t actually happen to you.
Thank you. No, fortunately it didn’t happen 🙂
Now that I think about it, the poem is called “Ralf,” so it’s probably about a fictional character named Ralf. I just realized that. I was half-asleep when I read it earlier. Sorry.
That’s ok. But you are right in that sometimes the truth lurks in fiction and there is a mish mash of reality and make-believe 🙂
Yes. You’re right about that. Hope you’re having a good weekend.
Great, thank you. Hope you are too.
Beautiful piece 🙂
Thank you 🙂