Get Your Premium Membership

The Day Rob Ford Died

At once he died a tired fight. The knife his only hope. Rob Ford gone walking through the gates. A Saint to hold the rope. Where angels patter to his ear. Their whispers all but rumors. "Sit up Rob Ford; you Common Man"; for life without these tumors. As violins play a prouder tune. This man alive once more. His smile to light the very Heaven of those who came before. While waiting for his spoken words. Rob's gesture to the Lord. Instead of giving God his thanks, prays men on Earth can board.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2016




Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.

Please Login to post a comment

A comment has not been posted for this poem. Encourage a poet by being the first to comment.


Book: Shattered Sighs