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
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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