Cathartic Thoughts
Age twenty-one, so young...was I
I scribbled words, so time could fly
I've always liked to riddle and rhyme
So, I wrote a poem to pass my time
John Lennon's name had filled my slot
I wrote about...when he got shot
So sad a day...I'll always remember
Nineteen-eighty the eighth of December
How cruel a world- is what I wrote
But "most are kind" was in my note
Imagine- if John...were still alive today
There would be more great music...to hear and play
His songs be filled with peace and love
The moon, the earth...the skies above
I'm sure he'd write of righteousness
His poetic thoughts, most of all...I'll miss
Next forty years- I wrote no more
Till one rainy day...when it began to pour
It poured divorce- and it drenched my name
My ex, myself, ourselves...to blame
So, I grabbed my coat...and I grabbed my hat
And I moved myself- a bedroom flat
Then, Lennon's poem...came to me again
So I grabbed my pad, and I inked my pen
With so much time- beheld by me
I started writing again; poetry
So easy now, are words to find
Cathartic thoughts...now cross my mind
Catharsis Poetry Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Silent One
12/2/2020
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