The Fortune Teller
I dropped my bike on the dusty pavement
And looked at the ramshackle caravan
I bit my lip and cautiously walked to the door
There I was met by a woman
She was a typical fortune-teller alright
Scarves, bangles and jewellery galore
A withered face with layers of make-up
She made me feel nervous so I looked at the floor
The lady barked, "What do you want?"
I stammered "I want my fortune read."
I put my hands in my grubby jeans.
She rolled her eyes to heaven
"Sorry, I only serve over eighteens."