Twenty-Two November

I remember John, even though he’s gone,

Caisson rollin’ on, feelin’ woebegone.

Oh, the hearts that cried, on the day he died,

World turned cockeyed, tears we couldn’t hide.

Cronkite read the news, gave us all the blues,

Crumpled up tissues, the sorrow to diffuse.

The end of Camelot, had become our lot,

Consolation sought, feelings in a knot.

Did it all portend, the New Frontier would end,

Or could we ascend, our sorrow to transcend?

Decades rolled on by, we kept askin’ why,

our innocence died, our dream was denied.

LDT Nov 22, ‘21

The Rhythm of My Soul

Published by thillld