Life Has It's Crosses

He was fifteen when a drunk driver knocked him down and killed him to bring a quick end to his brief life span
His parents left to grieve for their teenager one who would never grow into a man
Their only child for them it is heart-breaking to lose their son in such a tragic way
Six months ago for him  they are still grieving he would be sixteen years old today

He never had the chance to father children or he never had the chance to take a wife
His parents do remember on his birthday their dark haired boy full of the joys of life
The memories of his death for them so painful to talk of him still brings them close to tears
The pain of loss it always will be with them though their grief will lessen with the passing years

The driver of the car who shattered their lives a twenty seven year old in his prime
For drunken driving as well as manslaughter sentenced to spend four years of prison time
Four years for such a crime does seem quite lenient though to kill another was not his intent
On his victim's parents he has passed a life sentence the loss of their son they are left to lament

Their sense of loss is with them for their lifetime and only the memories with them do remain
Of their beloved son killed by a drunken driver that they are never to see in the flesh again
Not the first or last to die in such a manner such tragedies are repeated every day
The living for their dead are left to mourn life has it's crosses it does seem this way.

Children Of Destiny

Some say how we fare in life that we do have the choice
We can reap the reward for hard work or for failure pay the price
But they overlook the thing called destiny
And that does seem their error of judgement to me
We are children of destiny though some may say that's a lie
For destiny decides how we live and we die
A local multi millionaire died in a car crash today
It was destiny decided his life should end in this way
The mantle of success he surely did don
And though his family and friends grieve his passing life without him will go on
This morning a wealthy and successful man
Little knowing his life was at the end of it's span
He is far worse off now than the poorest in the town
One who will never know of success and renown.

Often In His Flights Of Fancy

That he was raised by the wooded hills in the north countryside
To him remains and will always be such a great sense of pride
His heritage to anyone he never does deny
He says i was born and raised two hundred miles of here north as the migrant bird does fly
Where the dark birds with yellow eyes known as pied currawong
On the high trees to forecast rain sing their familiar song
Where the brown and gray kookaburras laugh loudly to greet the day
He fancy he can hear them in the high wood far away
With a wife and three young children and a house mortgage to pay
He works and lives in suburbia and perhaps there will grow old and gray
But often in his flights of fancy he can hear the shrike thrush sing
In the woodland by his old home on a balmy day in spring
The past may be gone forever but the memories remain
And in his flights of fancy the wood birds sing again.

From Birth To Death

From birth to death the biological clock it does tick and tick away
And for all that breathe the breath of life a final night and day
And that there is more to life than wealth and fame few do become aware
Those in touch with the higher self to say the least are rare
The yearn for recognition is in all of us 'twould seem
Suppose we need a boost to the ego for our sense of self esteem
The average human life span is a decade with three score
We are mere mortals nothing more as was often said before
And yet with others we compete for success and yearn for wealth and renown
Anybody never daydreams of becoming the poorest one in the town
For success and for wealth and fame with each other we compete
And few are ever satisfied with being best on their street
But success and financial wealth does not come to everyone
And the yearn for recognition is part of the lust for life when all is said and done.

The Fellow From Maldon

Up north in the sub tropics of Byron Bay
The fellow from Maldon enjoying life today
Without children in his early twenties and yet to take a wife
He is making the most of the single life
Love making to him is not anything new
He has slept with many young women of his age and with far older than him a few
A few did fall for him in quite a big way
And in love ache the price for unrequited love they did pay
The fellow from Maldon is partial to his glass of cheer
It costs more than a few dollars for him for to get drunk on beer
In his twenty second year at the doorstep of his life's prime
He works not to save money but for to have a good time
The wanderlust in him so he will not stay
For long more in the sub tropics of Byron Bay.

The Tag Of The Rhymer

To say i'm a poet would be broadcasting a lie
The tag of the rhymer with me till i die
What is good or bad verse is not for me to say
I just do my own thing and live in my own way

For many years i have been a rhyming buff
And i am one of those who has penned heaps of stuff
The rhymes do come to me i just pen them down
But not for financial gain or for renown

It is said about poets they are born not made
But everyone needed in the wordsmith trade
Great playwrights and novelists and poets in the few
One might say to that tell us something that's new

In far aways fields i did pen my first rhyme
And that is going back near four decades in time
The years have left me looking weary and gray
And physically i've known a far better day

Some tell me i ought to give rhyming away
But to their advice any heed i do not pay
For as long as the breath of life i do retain
The yearn to pen more rhymes in me will remain.

I Will Not Be Telling Others

I will not be telling others how tough life is on me
Since all they would offer is feigned sympathy
Such as sad to hear this but we have cares of our own
And as you do know of hard times we too have known
Yet to the problems i have i never lose any sleep
And what is my business to myself i do keep
As a cynical person i have come to realize
That to suffer in silence for my kind more wise
Than seeking false sympathy from those who about me do not care
So my problems with others i never do share
To complain of my worries i'd only drag myself down
Who wants to be known as the sad sack of the town
For my poor financial judgement i now pay the price
My life problems came to me by my own device.