To the people of the commonplace world,
with minds narrow as a razor’s edge,
who know nothing of real true love,
she was only a plastic blow up doll,
a poor imitation of the real thing.
But she was his Venus in plastic,
his beautiful inflatable goddess,
and he loved her beyond measure.
And oh how she listened to him,
hung on to his every word.
And oh how she was always there
for him anytime day or night.
And she never cheated on him
or even looked at another man.
Nor did she ever say an unkind
word or argue with him.
But, alas, the romance deflated,
their full blown love punctured,
when he learned she was full of hot air.
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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