Misfits

Wildwose and rider

And drowsy nightingale.

Bird in scrubby bushland

Letting sleep prevail.

Bellerophon  robber

Pegasus did take

Horsefly was his ruin

Wanderer did make.

Monster once so kingly

Soon was turned to beast

Monarch miscreation

On the grass to feast.

How did they become this way?

Two by circumstance

One by nature, purely

Dropped in reality’s cruel dance

As a misfit, unliked.

Ignored by all its race.

Wanting to be loved,

Alas, ‘twas  not the case.

Wildwose and rider

And drowsy nightingale.

One good thing came out of this:

They all can tell a tale.

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