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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required THE SHUNS OF LIFE by JOHN M. ARRIBAS This poor bloated woman, after nine months of inflamation Dropped me off at the maternity ward, a brand new creation She ejected me without a second thought or hesitation Unburdening her of guilt and pain and utter frustration Being slapped from the, git go, I felt great consternation Losing a cozy warm home, sans any warning or indication My first appearance naked and crying, what an indignation I blasted out my cries and sobs in boisterous determination Those years with soiled diapers an utter abomination Learning to talk and walk no thought, just imitation Squeezing into bed with mom n dad causing alienation Playing by myself taught me the art of improvisation Into kindergarten against my will gave isolation Things began to fall into place, as I learned assimilation Learning new techniques and clever application Achieving n receiving genuine parental adoration Off to college to widen and improve my education Often side tracked by gigantic breasted flirtations Graduated with my girl, who ceased her ovulation Should have been more prudent, that summer vacation All that led to my being a dad, what an aberration Several more missteps, I started my own aggregation With some many mouths to feed, forget a vacation I had to work day and night to avoid starvation Absence left little time for passionate conjugation My spouse found another to fill her expectation My offspring despised me due to espousal indoctrination Ousted from the house, but, still to provide compensation Resources for two households excessive augmentation Lost employment due to physical n moral degradation Unable to pay my obligations caused legal condemnation SHUNS (2) I melted under pressure leading to excessive libations I had rousing orgies and bacchanalian celebrations Spent all of my coins engaging in primal satisfactions While on my last bash I committed the last of distractions On the street in a delusional stupor, I failed to take action Run over, killed, by an intoxicated fool in a state of confusion I’m in a narrow, dark and damp cave, awaiting adjudication My travel plans under discussion determining direction Will it be up or down, judges huddled in silent deliberation Sentence is given: return to purgatory, a renewed visitation Back to earth, to continue my trial, searching exoneration So it’s back to the womb to cease her bloated inflamation I now wonder, how many times afore have I made excursions Onto the planet usually described in calamitous dispersions Is it possible that I met myself, while in another version Well now that I think on it, the event deja vu, a repetition Do we repeat the event or seek a different revision An alternate outcome could provide a new exploration
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