Without a PaddleA Poem by PeteA black bird of prey points the way. Acommodations with an extended-stay. Baggage optional. Told to go "there" daily. A sorry salutation. Traversing in a hand-basket. On a road paved with good intentions. Along with the horse I road in on. Sent up the debasing waters of bereavement. On a tributary of terror. Spiritual persecution come to fruition. Ending my humanity. Awash in fallen souls. Lost in crosscurrents. Questioning what went wrong. On a course of "it" and high water. The way is confusing. The wailing gut-wrenching. Navigating up "its" creek. The smell of excrement unbearable. Escorted by the prince of penitential pergatory. Cloaked in black. Clutching a scythe that grimly reaps. Without a snowball's chance. Taxing toll-booth clicks. Afloat on the river Styx. Last chance to skedaddle ... ... without a paddle ... © 2018 PeteFeatured Review
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2 Reviews Added on February 15, 2018 Last Updated on February 18, 2018 AuthorPeteBoston, MAAboutI love reading, writing, music, nature, God and feeling emotion, not necessarily in that order. To me, these things go hand in hand. My favorite writer is Henry David Thoreau. I think he was a geni.. more..Writing
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