In the misty air of uncertainty
He began to get some clarity
He pondered his wasted life
Spent in drunken binges
And lost jobs and wives
Some wives he abused
Just as he was about to
Recreate a new himself
Two brothers of an ex wife
Beat the life out of him
For beating their sister
Who nearly died from
The beating he gave her
Justice served in a way
But the timing was so bad
When he wanted to make
Amends and become a
Reformed and better man
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. :-)
View all posts by BobBoyd