Concentration!

Concentration at that moment was a priority

but he followed the bus.

Rushing somewhere nothing else important

his mind dysfunctional.

Not stopping to give at the mini roundabout

he was knocked out!

 

The other car crashed into him on his side

spinning him into a post.

Awaking in intensive care unable to move

his depression immense.

Only recently he had become a bankrupt

accused of being corrupt!

 

Those problems now didn’t matter he knew

though his  wife left years ago.

Her hatred for him had grown more intense

swore she’d ruin his life.

Draining his money paying the bills no way

creditors demanding he pay!

 

Sliding into unconsciousness a hounded man

faintly hearing alarms.

Voices and hands touching him he felt no more

gone the worries of living.

His fight was over with those who didn’t care

now he was out of there!

 

As the heart stopped his soul left the body

now finding that alluded peace!

 

The Foureyed Poet.

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Sunday

Sunday use to be the day of rest

all was quiet wherever you went.

Little or no traffic then not a pest

every one was full of good intent.

Peace and quiet the family together

simple pleasures lasting forever.

 

Nobody rushed it was a day to unwind

aroma of dinner was always around.

A snooze to digest and chill the mind

precious times to enjoy was found.

Laughter filled the house on this  day

after tea time for games to play.

 

Life has changed to a much faster pace

no moment to waste today it seems.

Rushing work and play like a race

relaxation is only in their dreams.

Not happy with cards or leisurely walk

or get together and simply talk.

 

Those times now just part of our history!

 

The Foureyed Poet.