Perhaps We Can Come to Agreement

I'm not keen to be saved, Mrs. Johnson. I don't believe
In ghosts or gods, and the prospect of paradise in
The hereafter strikes me as fanciful. I'll play the odds
And continue what you call my unholy life..., though I
Could be persuaded to pantomime piety briefly for
More of your freshly baked bread.

Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
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Written on 2024-07-10 at 16:45

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Griffonner The PoetBay support member heart!
Onholy in the eyes of the unholy probably. More likely than if taken at face value. Unholy or not, I send blessings to you my friend, and thanks for sharing another unique piece of your poetry. Allen

alarian The PoetBay support member heart!
One of the worst life on earth for me is a man sentenced to death and waiting 6,7 years in the death row enduring that each day is maybe his last day…

When I first joined Poetbay a decade ago every time I came across your poems, while I found them amazing, I thought they were so bitter.

I'm older now and understand.

What strikes me though is the rare glimpses of joy and humor in your work.

You're amazing.