Tuesday, September 11, 2007

Come fly with me...

It was to be heaven
First time in twelve years
A holiday
With out her mother along
Those jokes you hear
Of in laws from hell
She’s the one they’re based on
So it was to be heaven
A flight Holidays’ first leg
Boston to LA
Soaring skyward
Skimming heaven
But what’s this?
Crazy’s with guns
And one with a knife
He’s stabbed our hostess
An example has died
We sit in stunned silence
A detour to New York…?
This doesn’t look good
It was to be heaven
And now
How I wish
Her mother was along…

1 comment:

Jay said...

Wow, not the usual stuff of poems.