S uccinct
H ook
O f
R apid
T hought
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| Ideal panel look-alikes |
Let the Drabble-Poets commence!
Dizzily dancing, she twirled the stage.
One pirouette, two pirouette, finish with a bow.
Then up she came for the crowd's laud
Greeted by streetlight and graffiti-ed walls.
Stood lone ballerina, all conundrum and dread
Studio behind, home of the arts, an infamous wreck.
Out stepped a stranger with ominous look.
"I've longed to see thee, lady fair of the stage."
"I've longed to see what I can't, for my age."
He offered a hand, strange contraption therein.
"This be the means of thy travel. I fear
Ye never shall return to the then from the here.
You are mine."

