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John Latter Poem
Surrounded by people, yet alone.
My only respite....the telephone.
Longing for voices, having never heard.
Hearing voices that could only unnerve.
Day after day, they blend together.
One's only hope, they don't go on forever.
Pain and sorrow, that's what life brings.
No three little birds melodies pure and sweet sings.
Cast your lot and hope all is well.
Pray that God doesn't send you to hell.
Old and crippled, where all soon shall be.
Better to die young, wrap your car around a tree.....
Copyright © John Latter | Year Posted 2014
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