You always walked the high wire, without a safety net
you were both brave and foolish, yet now I’m cursed never to forget
that day you turned on a sixpence, that awful day you let me stray
then stole a pistol from your father’s study and blew your brains away

The day they buried your last remains, was one of glorious sunshine
so many of us came to see you off, most said, ‘she once was mine’
that’s when the unseemly fight broke out, a bundle of true lovers
each believing you loved him the best, overlooking all men are brothers

Oh but such shenanigans, spawned of your hungry carnal aptitude
you see no man could keep up the pace, certainly none within this multitude
of your mourning former inamoratos, oh, how we ended up so bruised
after all you were an independent girl, and…

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About Jonathan Caswell

Mr. Caswell has been composing poetry at least since High School. He has been on WORD PRESS for ten years and contributes to two other blogs beside this one. This blog has a Christian emphasis but all bloggers are welcome. Mr. Caswell chooses to---with permission--re[post material of interest

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