Told to think that there
was something really
wrong with me because
I didn’t call his death a
tragedy; tried recalling
where I was the day he
died – no idea, at work
I guess, defending what
was left of peace and sanity.
The mess his later years
became gave small relief,
I strongly felt he wasted
youth and squandered it
for pastry fame. I can’t
remember if I cried, sad
inside for sure with some
regret, but I forget the place
I heard ‘The King’ had died.
© 2 February 2008, I. D. Carswell
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