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The Old Man’s Dock

The old man’s dock, on a cold Scottish loch,
when the cock crows, he stands in a warm frock,
Taking stock of life’s secrets to unlock.
He stands firm to mock, death’s calling tick tock.
Hard as a rock, he leans against the shock,
as waves of fear knock, upon his old crock.

(Internal Mono-rhyme)

Published by .

Publishing Editor for The Yard: Crime Blog.

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