Sunday, January 30, 2005

It wasn't beautiful but he loved it.

It wasn’t beautiful but he loved his life

He smoked a pack a day to quench his addition
Leaving a smile of yellow stains and an aura of stench
That followed wherever he went.
But he loved it.

He never kept a job worth keeping
Or any girl for that matter.
He couldn’t stay put
But he loved it.

The doctors poking and prodding
His thin frame listless in the bed
The last days of life pained
The way he didn’t say goodbye.

It wasn’t beautiful but I loved him.

1 comment:

Lindsay said...
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