There's blood dripping from my lip
and salty, viscous red liquid in my mouth.
I'm still in shock so I don't yet feel the pain.
And I start laughing. At least I think I'm laughing,
as I turn my head back to view my assailant.
There he stands.
The stranger.
Lean and muscular, fist at the ready for
my response of violence.
All I can do is laugh
and
he mistakenly thinks
it's him
I'm laughing at.
He continues to pummel
me until I'm unconscious.
John Kipling Lewis
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/response-of-violence/
