Recovery short poem

Photo by Caio Basilio

I’m better now, the illness gone, I never thought it could.
I met a friend, I didn’t know, he told me that I would.

We will see the world together, he told me with a stare.
I met a friend, I’d done much wrong, he didn’t seem to care.

Apparently his nemesis, wanted me with him.
I met a friend, who fought for me, who went out on a limb.

My presence was a thorny issue, his son left, he was cross.
I met a friend who ignored this, wholly tragic loss.

Pain and torture float away, in paradise I now live.
I met a friend, whose only thought was how and when to give.

Now days pass by so peacefully, like floating on a cloud.
I met a friend, I love you Paul, he shouted out aloud.

I see my children every day, now my recovery is complete.
I met a friend and next to him he offered me a seat.

New rules for life he showed to me, in joy and hope I read.
I met a friend, he didn’t mind I had only half a head.

On wine and fish we dined together, with me he shared his bread.
I met a friend, his name is God, it turns out that I’m dead.

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Paul Louth

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I am an obese hairy giant of a man who thinks so much that sometimes i forget that life is still going on. I have written numerous poems that if published would immediately render me unemployable. I live on the edge of society so that normal people can look on in horror without having to get too close. Creativity lights me up and i once killed a pigeon with a brick (After consultation with a vet).
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