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Mr. Luck VS. Mr. Logic

Once life has its run
Mr. Luck and Logic meet
They challenge and bet
on who'd win, who'd retreat.

They set out once a journey .
They rode a shabby car.
It only took them half the way
then declined to go too far.

If we spend here this night(they thought)
and get some place to sleep.
It's getting a way dark here,
and dimness'll shortly creep.[/i]

"I'll get a bed here tonight."
Mr. Logic pointed to a tree.
"I'll sleep in the street, said Luck "
"there I'd feel free."

"No doubt, you're insane." said Logic
"Tonight you're a dead-man."
A car shall surely hit you,
a heavy vehicle or a van.

But Luck didn't lend Logic
an ear and paid no attention.
He got the street a bed
with no fear or tension.

A few hours then passed
before a car came across
while Luck still lying there
where he'd be hit and tossed.

The driver didn't hit Mr. Luck,
but steered away instead.
He veered towards the tree
where Logic got his bed.

That's how it often gets
between Mr. Luck and Mr. Logic.
Though sometimes it goes in turn
Mr. Luck mostly wins like magic.

Style / type: 
Structured: Western
Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Review Request (Direction): 
What did you think of my title?
How was my language use?
What did you think of the rhythm or pattern or pacing?
How does this theme appeal to you?
How was the beginning/ending of the poem?
Is the internal logic consistent?
[This option has been removed]
Last few words: 
My first or second attempt in telling a story. I appreciate every helpful constructive critique.
Editing stage: 


Ans skilfully rhymed

Loved the story I have a few ideas I will drop back in tomorrow morning and leave my thoughts its getting late here and I am getting tired I have been unwell, sorry for the hit and run I will be back :)

sincerely Jayne-Chloe

“The world is full of magic things, patiently waiting for our senses to grow sharper.” — W.B. Yeats

Thanks for dropping in. I sorry you were with health problems lately and hope you feel better now . I would love to hear your thoughts on this story.


Poetry is when an emotion has found its thought and the thought has found words ........Robert Frost☺

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