Ditch Poem by Lawrie Stuart Ronton

Lawrie Stuart Ronton

Lawrie Stuart Ronton

An Industrial City in a shoddily assembled one-floored house.

Ditch



Not a hose,
Nor the old rose.
In the corner of the room,
It blooms.

Red petals, Not blue.
Call out in distress,
To the Phazaiyll,
It doesn't reply...

Falling down,
his van hits a ditch.
It draws the suspension,
from under its latch.

He lies in the ditch.
Untouched.

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Lawrie Stuart Ronton

Lawrie Stuart Ronton

An Industrial City in a shoddily assembled one-floored house.
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