She labors everyday at the can factory
Boring repetitive mind-numbing work
She daydreams of going to college
But there is no money and
She didn’t have the grades
Or the athletic ability
To get a scholarship
She feels her life is going nowhere
And daydreams of a romantic prince
Like the ones she reads about
In all those romantic books
To resurrect her love and her life
But she’s too emotionally damaged
And chronically heartbroken
From failed romances
From less than princely men
To ever try to find love again
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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