Day: July 20, 2026

I wholeheartedly believe there’s luck in love,
good luck and bad luck.

Many relationships, never the right one, and
many cracks and scars on your lovelorn heart –

bad luck.

You meet your first girlfriend in high school,
a teenage romance that usually doesn’t last.

Despite the odds, you remain true to each other,
get married, and stay in love for the rest of your lives –

awesome luck.

And some seem lucky in love while others seem
unlucky in love.

The worst bad luck love, that I’ve seen countless times
on true crime shows, is when your bad luck in love

costs you your life because the one you thought you got
lucky with was a monster that ended your life.

And far too many good women and good men in this
uncertain world die that way.

Bob Boyd

It used to bother me when people said,
I’ll love you till the day I die.

That wasn’t good enough. I will love
you forever seemed and felt right.

But now I believe I’ll love you till I die
is correct

because I see love as biological for
the advancement of the species,

and despite the hearts, flowers, loving
words and endearing names, like honey,

I believe with death romantic love dies,
and unconditional love lives.

There’s no need for procreation there,
and no sex organs to do it with.

But, by the heavens above, I hope I’m
wrong about romantic love.

Bob Boyd

He felt unloved by his mother
when he was a child.

When he grew up, he became
a missionary at an

impoverished coal mine town.
He was beloved there, let a

sick woman live in his home
while he lived in a coal miner

shack, slept on the floor. The
people in that town called

him Christ of the Coal Mines.
But the heads of the missionary

program he worked for fired him;
he was too authentic for them.

He became an artist after that.
struggled to gain any recognition,

hardly sold any of his paintings.
He also struggled with mental,

health problems most of his life,
cut off his ear with a razor, gave

it to a prostitute at a brothel,
consigned to a hospital

for his mental breakdown, seemed
okay for a while

until he shot himself in the chest
with a gun,

died a starving artist, but today
his painting The Starry Night

sells for a billion dollars.

Bob Boyd