Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Oct 2016
Be ready! I'm coming for you, he warned.
We shrank into the doorways,
watching, waiting for the clutch
of his dragon's claws, his rheumy eyes, eagle's beak.
It was just Old Joe, playing our game,
until they stopped him dead.
Written by
Tony Luxton  Runcorn
(Runcorn)   
608
   ---, Anna Jones and GaryFairy
Please log in to view and add comments on poems