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Poem

The voice of death tho a whisper still
If exercised is loud and shrill
A couple of coins & sign the line
May just buy you a little time
Library’s filled with ancient tomes
A lot of stories of the unknown
On going tales of lore
Their to impress the present whore

Two bits to cover the eyes
A few roses to deodorize
A Constant rattle to the soul
can create more havoc than you know


With A few scriptures recited well
 Place a dollar bet and you’re out of hell
From our minds the hero’s rise 
Revealing how we lived our lives
Speaking in circles nipping our tails
Creating enough wind to billow a sail
The flag of glory is beyond repair
Yet plainly visible to all who dared






 This is to Francis& Keith &
The Captains of thrift        ANSWERS TO ANXIETY

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