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