Without a PaddleA Poem by Pete![]() A black bird of prey points the way. Acommodations with an extended-stay. Baggage optional. Told to go "there" daily. A sorry salutation. Traversing in a hand-basket. On a road paved with good intentions. Along with the horse I road in on. Sent up the debasing waters of bereavement. On a tributary of terror. Spiritual persecution come to fruition. Ending my humanity. Awash in fallen souls. Lost in crosscurrents. Questioning what went wrong. On a course of "it" and high water. The way is confusing. The wailing gut-wrenching. Navigating up "its" creek. The smell of excrement unbearable. Escorted by the prince of penitential pergatory. Cloaked in black. Clutching a scythe that grimly reaps. Without a snowball's chance. Taxing toll-booth clicks. Afloat on the river Styx. Last chance to skedaddle ... ... without a paddle ... ![]() © 2018 PeteFeatured Review
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2 Reviews Added on February 15, 2018 Last Updated on February 18, 2018 |



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