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"Jack Who?"

Ain't That a Shame?

Hopefully, They will Say...

Does It Matter?

Love Found



Who Knew?

My Little Dog named-Art

Yesterday's Autumn

A Bowl of Cheers?

I Say!

My Quest

Near Miss

Dreams of Yesterday

Do You Remember?

Ten

When is it all going to end?

Sleep

Just Let It Be

La Vie en Rose

Heads in the Sand?

If I've Learned Anything!

Silver Bullet

The Path We Choose

A Soldier's Integrity

What is that Sound?

Back in the 50's Tonight!

A Red Rose

Golden as Gold can Be!

Robin Fly Away

You See!

The Demise of the Old Cowboy

What Will I Miss?

More Poetry >>

The Individual

The arrow is swift through the
heart, and the blood upon the
ground is proof of the bowman’s
art.

Lie he dead here on the battlefield
of life, lost to an arrow of
time’s unforgiving strife.

Death be the reward at the end
for his struggle and pain.
A tear need not be shed,
for regrets he had none
to sustain.

Rejoice for he lived.
Cry not, for he has passed on.

Say often his name…
and forever he will remain.
The mold has been broken,
never again will there be
another exactly the same...

The Individual.

Jackie R. Kays
Copyright2002






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The Individual

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