She told me in May of 92
We were done
She gave me some fake excuse
Her reason for leaving me
But I knew her real reason
Was she felt too good for me
An average wage earner baker
I knew she wanted the high life
Her sister had with a rich guy
Though we got divorced
I knew she’d come back to me
But I never expected as a ghost
After she died in May of 96
When she overdosed on drugs
In some rich guy’s mansion in LA
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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