Gypsy woman how you mesmerized me.
Lured me away from home and friends.
Captured my soul. Stole my heart
And isolated me with your magic.
When you tired of me.
Tried to have me murdered
By your new next fool
Who only wounded me.
You underestimated
My payback capabilities,
Did some magic on you.
Misfortune followed
When you and your fool
Were sent to prison.
And you died there
Ironically by a gypsy woman
For offending her gypsy heritage
By pretending to be a gypsy.
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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