And John Wept

And John Wept

Words blistering so old.
An Octogenarian growing older and cold.
Steps that were untaken
Steps that he wished he could have taken.
A linesman;he watched from the sidelines.
The flag was his,but he allowed the players to step
on mines.
Unlike the man in the ‘Black and White,he
encouraged the tackles.
The red and yellow he used ,Nay!
The effect of the blast,bringing him closer to his
grave.
Tears that flow with so much strife.
Yet he weeps with so much life.
Ecclesiastes 3:1, he paid it no mind.
To their sight he was alwayd blind.
The stretching of their arms,
When they were seeking for alms.
He detested them and whipped them with palms.
He forgot what says chapter 2:8 of psalms.
An employer with a whip; alias Slave Mister.
At his sight,they run helter skelter
Years gone by; slaves are now masters of masters.
Offspring’s love for him inspite of his closeness,
to the grave was always in tatters.
Tears now flow with so much strife.
Yet he weeps with so much life.
A prodigal son,yielding an unwanted grandson.
‘He’,the architect; He,gave him a solid foundation.
“A solid foundation Indeed”
Eve went away, because he was a bird that didn’t
know how to stay.
She went away because he was a Floyd
Mayweather, day by day.
“Riches could train up a child”, thought he.
The bottle, a steady presense over him,it placed a
decree.
All alone,Isolation the companion to his grave.
Oh! I forgot;except the Wigman, the ‘Will’, he gave.
“Possessions and fortunes, will make a good
restitution “, thought he.
In a silent ailing voice, “Make sure to them, they get
thee”.
An instruction to the man in gown, gave he.
In the wake of death, he showed no bravery.
As he slumbers into that deep sleep
Regrets refuse to sleep.
Despite that eternal sleep, tears still flow with so
much life
And yet he rests in grief wirh so much strife.



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