Project: Me
by Bobby7

The time that I have left on earth
Is like an hour glass.
The Years I lost are all in there,
And the sand is falling, fast.

There's so much left for me to do,
And, yet, so little time.
To piece together broken parts
Of the life that once was mine.

I have to find myself, and then
I must atone for what I've done
So my love and I can end our years,
Still together, and as one.

I caused such pain, I hurt my love,
Abandoned friends and family.
But, I have learned the greatest pain
That I inflicted, was on me.

I wish I could reclaim those years
That I have thrown away.
I'm learning that, I prob'ly can...

But, so slowly, Day by Day

Bill
by Bobby7

My best friend died while I was drunk, and I just found out today.
The sad part is, that I don't know, just when Bill passed away.
Billy used to live with us, and we took care of him.
He needed help. I turned him out, alone, to sink or swim.

I told myself; It's for the best. We need our privacy.
I didn't give him too much thought, I was thinking just of me.
Bill was such a gentle man, with kind and thoughtful ways.
But, still, I turned my back on him, in my alcoholic haze.

The world would be a better place, with more people just like Bill.
I regret I threw my friend away, and I know I always will.
I think of Bill 'most every day, and Lord, I miss him still.
I hope and pray, if I come back, I'll be a gentle man, like Bill

I'll tell Sharon of our loss, my God; How she will grieve.
But Billy's in a better place. That's what I must believe.
The gentle nature, that was Bill's, made him such easy prey
For predators who roam the streets, claiming victims every day.

I hope to God that I helped Bill, before I turned him out.
I tried my best to show my friend what evil lurks about.
And, now that I've abandoned drink, I think of Billy boy.
And rue the day he left our home;
His friendship brought us joy.

Graveyard Shift
by Bobby7

The "Graveyard Shift's" on overtime. And working round the clock
A new crew is set in place each time we hear the "Reaper" knock
And he's been busy making stops in every walk of life
To day, he claimed a soldier, yesterday, he claimed a wife

Last week was aunts and uncles, granddads, the week before
I wonder when he'll get around to knocking on my door
We all have one-way tickets, to ride the "Pale Dude's" horse
And the 'Reaper" gladly punches them, when they come due, of course

The obits, in the papers, and all the sadness in this thread
Mean that an other soul has parted and that somebody's friend is dead
Or maybe someone's lover; cousin; brother; daughter; son
The "Reaper" disregards relationships, as he picks his chosen ones.

So when the 'Dude' comes riding, with his scythe in his hand
To shepherd someone dear to us to the fabled 'Promised Land'
In a twisted and ironic way, he does the Lord's work, I believe
And leaves we poor survivors to ponder and to grieve.

And tears are shed, and loved ones missed, as they are taken on their
way
I cry now, but not for long. I’ll be joining them, someday
And I find, as I grow older, the Grim Reaper inspires less fear
I stopped listening for the hoof beats, as my final time draws near

And when he knocks upon by door, as I draw my final breath
The hood will fall; and there revealed! The final 'Face of Death'.
So when it's time, I'll not complain, I'll open up the door
And ride with him to go and meet - loved ones - gone on before.

Odds
by Bobby7


I had some coin, some time to kill,
and I'd heard about this horse.
You guessed it! I was headed down
to the local track, of course.
I read the odds, and did the math,
then re-read the whole dang sheet.
If this nag comes through,
like I hope she will..
Well, I'll be on easy street.

I walk up to the ticket cage,
and boldly place my bet...
And dream about the future,
and a new life, without debt.
I get a spot up in the stands,
and settle down to wait.
'Til the handlers and the jockeys
get the horses in the gate.

I hear, "They're Off"!. I spin around
to see how my horse did.
She's leading at the quarter mile,
Boy...I feel just like a kid!
She's still ahead and running well,
as they pass the Clubhouse turn.
And my thoughts are running just as fast,
'bout the money I can burn.

As they near the wire, she picks up speed,
and leaves them all behind.
She's won the race by seven lengths,
and that money is all mine.

I go out on a spending spree,
and then find I'm in a jam.
I spent most all the money,
but I'd forgotten Uncle Sam.
I've got hot wheels, a brand new house, a pool,
and a really nice new yacht.

But, Uncle Sam has said he wants
a slice of what I've bought.
My bank account is out of funds...
Sam must be paid, of course...
But; Where to get the money?
Wait!.I just heard about this horse...

So here I am, got twenty bucks;
Oh my...what should I do?

Well, I know just where I'm heading...

And I bet that you know, too...

The Master's Butterfly
by Bobby7

What the Master calls a 'Butterfly',
I call a miracle.
Like a drop of rain that causes
Ripples on a pond, so still

Just one drop, that's all it takes
To reach from shore to shore.
And like the lovely 'Butterfly',
The Master has still more.

Consider this, If you were blessed
To attend a new - born babe's first cry
Why is that little ball of wrinkles,
Is so appealing to the eye.?

And this love child that you behold
Each day, indeed, each year
Becomes your pretty 'Butterfly"
Your miracle; So dear

The canvas that the Maker paints
With colours so sublime to see
Simply overflows with 'Butterflies'
Meant for you, and meant for me.

HHhhhmmm, I guess you didn't know I spent many a day at the track with
Dad. You brought back lots of memories, some good and some not so good.
Thank you Bobby, one good memory is that I did enjoy going most of the
time.



G

Roses are red,
violets are blue,
my poetry stinks,
how bout u?

Glad it brought some good memories, too, Gryphyn..

I appreciate you taking the time to read my works..

Duffy, it ryhmes, but it is very short..Care to drop off another one?

Wings
by Bobby7

If I put wings upon these words; What would hold them to the ground?
I'd hate to see my written words and thoughts be stratospheric bound
I work too hard to have my poem just suddenly take flight
And take with them the sweat and pain that I endured last night
So I will guard my precious works, and though you may rant and rave
I know that they'll be safe, unread, while buried in this cave.

Thank you for sharing your poetry...most of them gave me goosebumps and
made me think.

You are more than welcome, Eileena9. .

My poems come from somewhere inside me, and I never know where they will
take me, or the subject that they deal with..I only know that they all
rhyme..

bobby good luck with the new girl and love the poetry..

It is past luck, Jax..
She is moving here on the 28th...

Yiiipppppeee!!