Friday, March 27, 2015

Johnny Was A Good Man

Johnny was a good man when he set out to sail,
tempted by the blood and sweat of the holy grail.
He borrowed a boat, and a sharp, razored shell.
Behind him, now gone, his own personal hell.

He had with him, no money, nor food.
Nourishment on board, oil, but crude.
Quiet thoughts kept him awake at night,
disturbed only by the moon and its bright light.

With no one to talk to, and no one to see,
he found himself counting the one, two, three.
Several times, everyday, day in and day out.
Eventually, he will find his way, no doubt.

So he sailed further and further and more so.
Figured, if God was real, then this is all a show,
a performance of a lifetime culminating in jaws;
no use waiting for standing ovations or the applause.

Survival of the fittest without the survival or the fit,
didn't even give him time to use that first aid kit.
See, the boat sunk to the open ocean floor, with poor
old Johnny longing for days spent on the shore.

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