Fifty and five years, his life a mess.
Never thought he’d end up like this,
Incarcerated for a crime he didn’t do.
Sure he was wild but not like this.
Now he spends his days confined
Telling everyone he’s innocent.
No one believes him. No one cares.
They’re sure he killed that young kid.
Now three inmates have a plan.
And soon he’ll be knifed to death
To avenge the murder of that kid.
Justice served and deserved.
And the real killer killed another kid.
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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