He lost sight of things
When he became famous
When he became wealthy
Got too good for old friends
Took up with a celeb crowd
Party people and drug uses
Left his average-looking wife
For a beautiful supermodel
Not as caring as his ex wife
Blew his money away on
Hot cars, houses and junk
Supermodel said goodbye
Broke, alone and contrite
Missed his ex wife’s love
Needed her caring support
Too late, too damn late
Like his money, she was
Blown out of his life too
Like the hot supermodel
She was gone forever
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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