Randy McClave Poems

I am that bad penny
Called by my friends, not many,
As I have a very few, if any.
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She said that for me she had some advice
I excitedly asked her what was the price,
Her reply was simple, "it is free",
And only because I am a typical he.
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How could we look upon God's face
Without any shame or utter disgrace,
Especially after a life that many have led
Where hate and jealousy is all that they believed and said.
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When I had money to give or to send
I became my sons very best friend,
He called and he visited me all of the time
Which cost me every bill, quarter and dime,
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I asked Robert Burns
What inside his soul yearns,
He looked at me and then he spoke
But, then I awoke.
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She laid sick in her bed
Sometimes motionless as if she were dead,
She hates being there confined
That is not how her life is defined.
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Here at the restaurant I sit alone with a cold coffee cup
The reason why I do, I just got stood up,
I am sitting at a romantic table that sits only two
And now here sits me, and sadly not you.
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I was at the cemetery when my uncle and aunt were buried
A worker there gave me a wink and asked me if I was married,
I told her that I was single and that I haven't interred any wives
So, I live in peace and harmony, and I respect all lives.
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She just ran, as though in a race
As though to come in first place,
Wind on her wings and through her hair
She has no worries or a care;
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Blacks are not allowed in, I read it on the sign
But, if you are white, you can come in and dine,
Just sit down anywhere and order your food to eat
But, if you are interracial, please don't look for a seat.
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