Traces Of Me.....[SHORT; Personal; Humor; Death]
If when I pass I leave few traces,
let me leave at least some smiling faces,
on a chosen few.
I may have been at times a pain in ass
(and I don't mean when I was passing gas)
to a chosen few.
Retired, I wrote poems for myself and to share
(though it seemed most I shared with did not care)
with a chosen few.
I never with my money was wild.
I shared with wives, non-profits, and my child.
That's what I would do.
I've tried to live like a good Boy Scout.
But I gave up religion, and I sometimes shout.
What's a guy to do?
poem by Bri Edwards
Added by Poetry Lover
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