Doth our hero answer the door?
He seldom goes out anymore
For his subjects come to him
And buy the wares held within
No, he lives on roll ups,
Endless tea
To fuel his flights of fantasy
For on the page
He plays out tricks
As elves speak of his politics
And orcs have organised
These things came out to his surprise
But other things are on his mind
The petty fights of the daily grind
These two worlds,
He cannot join
It all unfurled
Over some coin
A headlight crack’d to
Remind a debt
And this young man
Came to direct
An accident at Jack’s door step
And angered vows
Both men made
Jack says a knife was soon bought out
And Jack he said
That he doth shout
‘“Good sir, there is no
Need to draw on swords
I am a man of deeds and
Words
But this anger which you hath
Displayed
Causes me such great dismay
Do not lay such actions
At my front door
My debt repaid
And nothing more
But the man lashed out
The knife was swung
And soon such battle was begun
Jack took up swords
He’d learned to wield
But weakest words
Soon revealed
He wielded it without a clue
And the mans thigh
He soon sliced through
Death was not seen
With stoic eyes
Jack smoked a joint
To blunt the cries
In this,
Our tale’s final twist
Revealed,
Rasta Jack
Called out to
Police
There is something
To be said for that
Which stabbed the illusions
Of
Rasta Jack.
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