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Tuesday
September 16, 2014
3:26am EDT


Rated: E | Poetry | Contest Entry | #1854054
Curs'd leprechaun! Where's my gold!?
The pot of gold that should have lay
Upon the ground where clovers sway
Decided to get up and take a walk

The rainbow that I followed there
Was but a fake, it led nowhere:
There was no treasure, only just a rock

So I wrote up a long complaint,
And brought it to the mailman saint,
In hopes he'd know the leprechaun's location

It seemed he did, so flew he fast
Around the world to where he last
Had glimpsed the drunken, green man's demonstration

I waited for that saintly man,
With hopes that he would have a plan
To get for me the riches that were mine

I stood inside the office post,
Still and silent as a ghost,
From half past four till fifteen after nine

By twelve I realized I'd been had,
And felt myself become quite mad,
Yet still I didn't move 'cuz I was stuck

The mailman saint and leprechaun
Had flown away - they were long gone,
And with them they had taken all my luck


Line Count: 31
© Copyright 2012 The Graphite Swordsman (UN: t.g.s at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
The Graphite Swordsman has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
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