The biting cold didn’t snap,
At ankles after a warm round of drinks.
So when she was thrown to the snow,
Out through the front door, she hardly blinked.
It was late by now,
And the spotlight moon was high,
Or at least she would have seen,
If it wasn’t for the two men that loomed nigh.
It took her forever to recall what she’d done,
As she scrabbled to her feet,
And confronted the two men,
Who she knew she’d have to meet.
And whilst the cold was hardly felt,
Nor was the first punch,
That landed at her stomach, hard.
The advantages of being drunk.
So when she was left there,
And slept the night in the snow,
She woke with the sun gushing,
Down the streets, but she didn’t know.
What had she done to cause an altercation?
And who should she apologise to?
So to solve these issues, she stumbled,
Through the front door, for another pint of two.