Don't you ever listen - enough to make my ears burn,
I went back - there were lessons and now it's my turn;
You treat people as you would expect them to treat you,
take stock, go thro' this life, don't mess up, whatever you do.
Why did I do the things that hppened, was it just me?
Broken hearts, scattered lives, , it really was a mystery,
you think - I'm not a bad guy but lack responsibility,
I suppose be thankful, could have been worse, that's me.
A free prisoner, could have been locked up, no room now,
for indiscretions, poor decisions, but too late anyhow;
ironic, I married a teacher but you don't listen to her,
so many times and then it's just gone when they occur.
I'm left eating sweets in a corner like Little Jack Horner,
write on the white board boy - be contrite and never forget her.
Whatever we write will never be enough.
My wife passed away earlier this year.
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