Born into prosperity
Had all the advantages
Grew rebellious
And bored with
Her predictable life
Squandered her
Advantages
Her comfortable
And secure life
On wild party times
On drugs and
Dissipation
For a hedonistic life
Lost her
Inheritance
Didn’t care
Now she’s homeless
And on the streets
Strung out on drugs
Trapped in
Soul slaying
Addiction
Destitute and
Selling her body
For another fix
Living in a hell
Far from the heaven
Of her early life
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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