Old habits die hard

Old habits die hard
Ow what a fruital yet tangled web we weave,
When all the good things in life, have we deceived.
The many pleasantries and pleasures after life we must leave,
The valor of my honor I’m forced to wear on my sleeve.
Those glorious loved ones lost in life we now bereave.
Those precious little conceptions boast in life we conceived,
The anguish we’ve encountered as man and wife we perceived.
The many doubts left pondered, though you continued to believe,
As minutes turned to hours, nights into days and then into eve.
All the days I sub come to failure, you helped me up heave,
And how my, so many such selfish, wants and desires were naive.
How the simplest though structured abnormalities, were pet peeves,
So many things in life, once all menial but now to, must we grieve
Jim
All copyrights Reserved to the author of this poem.
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