Not A Shocking Myth Poem by Lawrie Stuart Ronton

Lawrie Stuart Ronton

Lawrie Stuart Ronton

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

Not A Shocking Myth



Only the fair few shall perish,
Over five thousand years it reigns,
The mosquito slaying,
Rabid poker champions.

On my depression,
The smiles of elders,
Spark off a cooling mist,
Not the tail arises.

He must be...The Grangonion.
His horns paint in red,
Shoes lay untied,
to this day he died.

The player sits,
He won't obey,
Sweat pouring.
He cannot stay.

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Lawrie Stuart Ronton

Lawrie Stuart Ronton

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