Watch Repairs London Can You Rate My Poem Please. And Be Honest I Wont Mind?

Can you rate my poem please. And be honest I wont mind? - watch repairs london

The London Eye.

The London Eye is great, it seems, Redeemer,
Constant outside on the observation, stains,
A withdrawal Out, sun, cold, pale
On a dark background of the Thames.

The river is a wreck of voluntary liquidation,
A murder has given up hope, connectors, and buttons,
Men in colorful costumes and men with long layers.
They are too busy to see who or what they are.

But we can see the London Eye
These ants swarm sweating City Farm
Around the flame of the Royal Mint, drug addicts, unconscious,
A dark seduction of the Thames, without the storm.

Then the heavens opened and sparked the fire of righteousness
In a shower of flames with water, which dissolves the glittering costumes
And the patent leather boots, leather, meets the worn and weary,
No longer be repaired, as the air fills with dust, naked men.

The London Eye looks away, the London Eye, a simple reflection
Works, films, tremors and restlessness, the mechanism of the naked truth.
UntilThis means that a storm and fire, the
That can not be as forgiving, if not since the London Eye to see.

David Mullin.