Email Poem

Your IP Address: 3.12.34.36
Your Email Address:
To Email Address:
Subject
Personal Note:
Poem Title:
Poem
He left home to pursue his lifetime dream,
it was closer to midnight and the foggy moon had no gleam;
I saw him rushing out to the taxi-cab by dragging his luggage,
all the while he thought he could manage.


His name was Glen, six feet tall with light brown hair...
the handsomest guy in town with elegance and flair;
he drove all the girls crazy, but sad was to see him go...
they all waited for him outside as he fled into tomorrow. 


He worked for a law firm in downtown Manhattan,
and won many cases getting him lots of praises;
he bought a Lamburghini and was considered the toast of town,
but to keep up his status quo he needed more money to pay those bills.


Alaska was his destination, no big deal for a white man
used to cold weather and hard work anywhere he went;
stereotype or not he was proud and really wanted that job,
but going out to sea and catch fish wasn't somehow odd?


Glen spent two years in the land of coyotes and bears,
too often he got frostbite for not covering his ears;
his fair skin turned red, his green eyes teared...
as he remembered all the things his mother feared.


Money kept coming in, but his health wasn't as vibrant...  
he coughed a lot and sneezed when the harsh Nordic wind blew
as he dreamed of his warm home while mom cooked beef stew;
many thoughts ran through his depressed mind, once so jubilant.


On May eleven of two thousand ten when the Northern Sea didn't rage,
he received a text message, " Mother is sick, hurry home. " 
He changed his work clothes, took a shower and went to Anchorage
to take the next plane to New York City as noise harmed his lobe.


By her hospital bed, he stood holding her cold hand,
and he wept not able to hold back his tears,
 " I am back, mom...I'll make up for those lost years. "
She squeezed his rough hand, then suddenly expired.
CAPTCHA Preview
Type the characters you see in the picture
Required