Life, As I See It
It was a rough ride, those decades of humble;
I can say I tried though I did tend to stumble.
Hope rode alongside Luck with Reason riding blind,
and always, Whathefuck was coming from behind.
But, yet, here come I, still game to the course,
my arms held up high riding a dead horse.
If you have any thoughts on this poem, J.D. Heskin would be pleased
to hear them.