159. Most of my heroes. (17 Dec 2016).

There’s no real story behind this. Just a collection of words that appeared in support of the first two lines, which originally were only the one.

159. Most of my heroes. (17 Dec 2016).

Most of my heroes,

They all wear headstones,

Except for the ones on life support, or course,

Some of them, they had really bad lives,

Some of them, they had no life at all,

But when I was a young man,

I used to wish I could join them,

The ones who died, of course,

Not the ones on life support,

There’s never been kudos to be had,

By lying there dribbling & comatose,

And the best legends never died,

Comforted by helping hands in uniforms,

Instead they expired with hands prematurely old,

Shaking after using, far too many,

Back street bought consumables,

That had them already going cold,

Long before the funeral.

 

© Jim Laing 2016.

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About Jim Laing

The Buddha said there were four kinds of people. Those who run from dark to dark, those who run from light to dark, those who run from dark to light and those who run from light to light. From a life going from dark to dark to having a few years running from dark to light, with scuffed hands and knees from sometimes falling, I may be getting the hang of it now. How it began is not now how it is, I need a quiet space, After the noise of the day, So I take sanctuary in the creativity, And my soul feeds, On sometimes dark, Sometimes light fantasy, And I dare like many to work, But stay up off my knees, To dream, perchance to suffer, But always still to dream. Here are things mostly lyrical and poetic, with nonsense sometimes, reviews and personal musings. The coffees hot and always black. The words not necessarily so.
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