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Feb 2018
How close did you come
To having it all:
A middle-class life
Hung framed on the wall.
Two cars, a house,
Three kids and a spouse;
A fulfilling vocation,
On hold for vacations.
You cheered from the side-lines,
Offered counsel during half-times;
Standing, whistling, clapping, gasping,
Not knowing those moments
Would forever be passing.
You'd bundle the kids home from the field
To the loving aroma of a home-cooked meal.
The house soon secure for a well-earned sleep,
Living the dream between clean flannel sheets.
With grand kids in store,
And retirement soon;
All this and more,
But stories are looming.

You'd a plan going forward,
Somethings were said,
Things never heard,
But whispered in dread.
The worm set in years before,
An infectious destroyer
As it continued to bore.
A simple beginning, but not much said;
But cancerous rumors take root and spread.
They've lead many living to join with the dead.
You took the high road, decided to ignore it,
Believing the rational mind would abhor it.
But like a lead apron it draped common sense,
All things unraveled, a sad denouement,
You've been tried by opinion,
Found far from innocent..
Francie Lynch
Written by
Francie Lynch
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