He pursued her unmercifully state to state
After she ran away from his physical abuse.
He kept her in a state of nonstop panic,
The monster that he had become or always was.
She bought a gun, kept it under her pillow.
She never needed the gun for self defense.
Fortunately he died in a road rage argument.
He drew the gun he planned to kill her with
On an quick draw off duty police officer,
Who shot him to death on highway 99.
No tears fell for this abusive monster,
Except tears of grateful relief
When she learned he was dead.
Bob Boyd
Author: BobBoyd
80, last Piscean month, cancer survivor, work out 3 times a week, ride my exercise bike 2 hours daily. Began writing poetry October 2023, living in Greensboro, North Carolina, long ago from MA.
Retired and enjoying a solo, reclusive life, feeling fantastic and eternally youthful, always researching and gaining knowledge. Most of my poems are fictional, some are not.
I write about Spirituality, Mysticism, the Paranormal, 411s, Nature, Birds, Animals, Romantic Love, Death, Historical events like The Burning Times, Fictional Characters I Create, and much more . I write a minimum of 3 poems daily.
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