I escaped my death sentence,

Stressed it left me, quite tense,

In fear for my life I traveled,

When I arrived at the end of the road, I unraveled…

For several months I drank Cuba Libre rum,

Washed it down with coke, liquid form & powder,

I got to know, quite personally, the bottoms of every barstool,

They were the best and the worst of the Conch Republic,

They were playing my music ever louder & louder…

One day I awoke on my boat,

Thankfully I found myself still alive & afloat,

My sanity was burned away, but I did need a drink,

So for the moment I settled for a stout…

From that day forward I dried out,

It took time & angels did help me,

I stayed on the boat, felt secure,

Alive I was living for the cure…

When I finally ventured off my boat,

The midday heat was unbearable,

I was wearing a Hawaiian shirt, a bathing suit & sandals,

I was told I did save a child from vandals,

In the keys, vandals are sharks…

The family of the boy, were quite well off,

They supplied me with a cure & of course, the angels,

But when I worry about payment, they scoff,

I only wanted to live my life in a stupor,

But were unable to buy drinks or drugs,

No matter the amount I offered…

So many months it took to get past the desire,

I was sickened by what in my stomach felt like fire,

I couldn’t leave the islands, nor could I send out a wire,

Now that I look back, all I can do is forever inquire,

As to the validity of my past transgressions,

And how to my karma I did pay back my psychotic depression.

© -ed- 10/27/19