Proof

I’s got nuthin to sho for it,
Nuthin ta show at all.
Near sixty year of slinging tales:
Some slick, some loose, some tall.

I guess I shouldnta kilt that man,
But killin’s what needed done.
He shouldn’t done what he did to that girl,
So he wound up on the wrong side of my gun.

I guess I coulda married that nurse,
But I let my knight’s armor rust.
Now alone I near my ending year;
I’s so sad I could jus about bust.

I hads me plenny of chances:
Went down that ole road less took.
Wisht I could do it all over agin,
So I’s could have me anutter look.

I’s got nuthin to sho for it,
Nuthin ta show at all.
Near sixty year of slinging tales:
Some slick, some loose, some tall.

So I tells my kid be smart!
Don’ be made no dam poet’s fool:
Studies hard and be yer best
And get dat diploma from school.

Cuz you gots to have somethin to show,
To prove to folks, one and all:
That yo the one dell really need
To answer dat 3AM call.

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About Kitt

Sometimes a rhyme or couplet wanders across my consciousness. So, I share it. Other times I'm a hospice social worker; others, a Dad; others, southerner, New Orleanian, cajun enthusiast, voter, and on better days, a not-too-awful-poet/rhymster. Welcome to my page. Enjoy.

Posted on August 14, 2014, in Poem. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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