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David "Red" Wiget
He was the good son
and brother, as well;
with a hunger for living
he couldn't quite quell;
his life was his family
'til he sent them, away;
my friend Red, cannot come out to play.
~
Quite tortured in life
Red still wore a smile,
inspiring awe
but, that was Red's style;
a sponsor, a mentor,
a student of the day;
Red's hope began slipping away.
~
What I remember of Red is,
he'd never condone,
or explain his behavior
to leave his loved-ones alone;
he could've straightened things out
if he'd had one, more day;
and, that's something my friend Red, would say.
~
Needing answers, and closure
his wife, daughter, and son,
wonder "why" Red gave up
a life, they'd just begun?
Each promise towards sobriety
Red seemed to betray;
now, my memories of Red.....are just, gray.
Comments
judyanne
Tue, 2012-04-03 12:24
hi doc
'he could've straightened things out
if he'd had one, more day;' - how many times have i heard that?
i like the way you have set this out
good rhythm and rhyme
and a great finish
love judy
'Each for the joy of the working, and each, in his separate star,
shall draw the Thing as he sees It, for the God of Things as They are.'
(Rudyard Kipling)
docmaverick
Tue, 2012-04-03 12:32
Hi Judy Anne!
I thank you, and treasure the fact that you liked this effort!
sincerely,
doc.
Neopoet is "newtriffic" !
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