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Rhianecdote Dec 2014
Oh dear dance partner in despair*

must you weep now that the song is over?
Rhianecdote Dec 2014
The little Prince of Persia
Who's purpose is to depurse ya,
Dispersing suits, clock off time city worker,
Mark your card, inertia.
He's no mathematician or  magician
But give him a dynamoment to take you to the cleaners,
cause this one's mean a!
Hellbent on humiliation he'll reverend run you to the station.
He's counting cards, counting on ya till your seeing stars, K.O, ringside seat whilst you get parred, po, poker face he'll drive you gaga!
So Loay and behold he might not be honourable, but he's willing and able to bring the last supper to this table.
He's not called Jack but he's a joker, in guise he tries to choke ya, draw the ace but it won't help ya,
cause you're a disgraced King
and you've just been usurped sir,
by that little Prince of Persia.
I've met some characters this year and this is in homage to one of those. Loay the little Iranian hustler who couldn't be without a deck of cards in his hand despite being under constant threat of expulsion for gambling in college. But like every true poker player he took that risk, alas his luck did run out. After failing his exams and his semi devout Dad finding out about said gambling he got sent back to the "homeland" and nobody's seen him all summer or since. Either way, this kid had a gift and despite that economics qualification not going to plan I'm sure that we'll all be seeing him in a world poker tournament or heading some pyramid scheme in the near future. :) I'm sure he'll do well...well he better! cause the little ****  still owes me 3 quid!
Rhianecdote Dec 2014
So I'll make my 1st guess, my 2nd and my 3rd
And they'll all be wrong or right
But this isn't Rumplestiltskin
Just grim
No fairies or happy endings,
Just tales.

So I'll make my 4th guess, my 5th and my 6th
And they'll all be wrong or right.
But there's no clarity to be had in being cowardly
Just underserved charity
And that case just doesn't suit me.

So I'll make my 7th guess, my 8th and my 9th,
And I might just have had enough to make the call.
So send me down the direct line
The blunt knife may cut deep
But at least it won't chip away at me endlessly like the nth degree, the not knowing...
At times it's best just to be blunt.
Rhianecdote Nov 2014
Conversation becomes my obituary.**

  *Every sentence beckons closer the death of me.

Repeated chorus of a scratched and scathed LP,

stuttered , spluttered end to the symphony.

So put the violins back
they have been worn out.
Let them whisper and no longer shout.
Place bow in case let there be no doubt,
when next I turn my back on this stage
it'll be as I bow out.
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