And Raggedy Man Did Sing


Come carving our names nettle suckers by the tallest fake plastic trees.
Dangle thy fidgeting worm to a hungry, a vile, fishy fiend.

Raggedy man says I’m on a thin line.
Naked feet on a take a hollow stage

Effortless dancing the callous clowns take farmer’s daughters to the hay.
Will peel back strumpets salty skin and reimburse your name.

Hail’d in the field whislt digesting the hallucinogenic leaf,
a smoke screen from a friend to a friend, to country and queen.

My mangled dandled and kicked in spleen.
Raggedy man says I’m the 21st century manic.

Cat in the sack has pulled his muscles and shall succumb.
To a pestered jester joking about the righteously bummed.

Over the hill by Jack and Jill’s well.
What bodies did we see?
Vapours trailing a last breath of innocence.

In times of repeating its everyday I write the script.
Look further and you will notice the falling ink.
From a frozen heart beats the drum of jack’s mournful giant.

I’m always chasing shadows down a modern day beanstalk.
Throwing pebbles at mighty forts.
Raggedy man says keep fighting the good fight.

But how will I know?
Throw it in the bin.
Walk on down the path.
Pavement hums notes of history, footsteps of victims, timely triumphs and this raggedy man did sing.

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Jack Kelly

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Scribing and thoughts of the lone wolf of North West London. Storyteller, Nonsense bellringer for the love of imagination and having a many a laugh.
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