His parent always said,
Why can’t you be like him?
He’s always helping his father,
He’s a model kid.
He grew to hate that model kid
He could never be like.
But he found out he was
better than him in one way.
Playing a game of hockey
On a pond near where he lived
The model kid tried to stick
His hockey stick into
another player’s ice skate
Who had gotten past his defense.
Though in his parents’ eyes,
He wasn’t as good as the model kid
He knew he’d never be a cheater like him.
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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