Okay, this is a brand new one, I just wrote it then, in memory of, well, you know. I haven't seen it, but I'm a little distressed. This one is going to be followed up by a sequel poem to this one and then I might write something a little more sombre. Thank you for the reviews.

Three of Five

First impressions always last,

Thoughts on first sight, in the past.


From the senses: smell, sight and sound,

Touch and taste will later be found.

I'm expecting someone who wreaks control.

Someone who's confident and all demanding,

Someone who'll try to read my soul,

Not the man before me standing.

Then the penny starts to drop,

As the paradoxes starts to lurk.

Then the assistant drops his boss's coat,

With a playful smirk.

Tall and tanned a dirty gold,

The assistant prompts once more.

His voice subdued and hardly heard,

Sending agents out the door.

I go next, forced from my own place,

Outside into the cold.

A wisp of saw-dusted coffee fills my head,

And my sight; a smile too bold.

I stall a while out on the steps,

Not sure if it could be right,

And then I storm straight back onboard,

My re-entrance, having an effect, if slight.

The dynamic's suddenly changed,

With him, his team and me,

I know which one in dominant,

He pauses, looks and questions carefully.

No more a simplistic voice for him,

Now scratchy and playful and strong,

I know three of five: a frisson,

As I question the other two: how long.

Intriguing as time can allow,

A sketch, I can faintly see,

A question, of two, plus one remains:

Is he as dominant as me?