My Johnny

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  • Sadness
  • ,
  • Loss

    My Johnny

    In each place that i find myself, with each and every breath,
    I do recall the moments shared, before your early death.

    Our laughing and the crying, the way we were a team.
    The sharing and the planning of our grand and noble dreams

    Of course we were naive it seems, on how life rolls through time
    how you can be brought ,to your knees, without a rhythm or rhyme

    How people who had charge of you,just placed your welfare last,
    and taught you much of selfishness, and you grew up too fast.

    In your need to have your way, you started on the drugs,
    shunning all your family, and hanging  with the thugs.

    And finally, my little bro, you took the fatal dose
    as your body and your spirit, became the virus host.

    You left this world much to soon, my brother and my friend,
    and i' m always going to love you, foever, without end

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    Poetry is what is lost in translation.

    Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.

    thekeywatchers’s Poems (4)

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    loss 0
    My Johnny 0
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