Kevin Michael Bloor


RENEWED by touch of tragic truth,

This child turned into timid youth

Put off his puerile playing

As mother started praying.


RESOLVED, she sought her son some strength:

 “For you, I’ll go to any length.”

She winked, and called him, Kiddo,

This woe-begotten widow.


RESHAPED, as fatherless, by fate

His grief did galvanize, not grate.

His mother, once his treasure;

He swapped for girl and pleasure.


RESTYLED, as lover realigned;

With one, was not the staying kind;

Her dad, when they were over

Spat, “Curse that Casanova!”


REFORMED, by tender tear-stained face

Of girl, he named, his goddess, Grace;

His dad, he knew, if living

Would frown, but be forgiving.


RESIGNED, now he is old and grey

And there is no remaining day

To light his mother’s Kiddo;

His wife will be his widow.

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