Author Information
Craig
Now that you're gone, who will
walk me to my car, late at night,
telling lies designed only
to make me laugh? Who will remind
me of all of the loftier ideals
and abstract concepts?
I don't know how to decide
who the good guys are,
or even if there are any.
Who else will let me shoot thier gun?
How will I know when
it's time to go (too much, over-served),
Who will ride with me like
there's no tomorrow
'cause there may not be.
Yes...yes...yes....Your poem did exactly what it meant to do...made me feel those questions...and the sorrow...good work.