she always had to buy the most expensive designer clothes.
she blew thousands more on fancy cars and overpriced houses.
she always dined at restaurants affordable to only the rich.
she looked down on people who shopped at stores like walmart,
peasants she called them, who had no class or taste,
who’s idea of dining out was filling their faces at fast food restaurants.
despite all her arrogant airs and her extravagant spending,
she could never buy enough stuff to make her happy
she was more miserable than so-called peasants she disdained,
and all her heaps of stuff that didn’t matter one bit when she died.
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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