#WritcoPoemPrompt10
Rickety, rick, rackety rack,
The train sings a song on its old track,
We swing with its tune,
Swaying and bouncing a moment too soon,
Yes these were the days
Before the new moon.

My mother once told
A story of old
About a fierce lady warrior
Who pillaged and plundered
And the souls she took numbered a hundred.
But not as it seems, for she was of good heart
Of only justified...