A Predatory Planet
My brother was a serial killer. He had no misgivings about it.
He said we’re living in a predatory planet. I’m an iconic symbol of it.
He told me I was an accessory to the planetary slaughters
With all the fish, animals and plant life I devoured every day.
He killed over twenty innocent, young women before I found out
And turned him into the authorities. Who ended him forever.
They fried him in the electric chair. They sizzled his infamy away.
I had no sorrow about his death. I’d disowned that monster long ago.
Bob Boyd
Author: BobBoyd
Age 80. Cancer survivor since 3 years ago. Work out 3 times a week. Ride my exercise bike 2 hours a day. Live a solo reclusive life. Retired a year ago from working with the elderly in a nonprofit. Started writing poetry a little over a year ago; most poems I write are fictional but some are not. Spiritual with a permanent spiritual experience. Write poems on many subjects. Always researching for many of my poems and because of my unquenchable thirst for knowledge. After reading and hearing about many near death experiences and death bed visions, I believe death is the ultimate awakening and the relocation of a lifetime. You may believe differently, but you have the right to be wrong -- I'm just messing with you. :-)
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