Stripping away the rose colored glasses of denial concerning my reality. Getting in touch with truth. Reaching out to others in empathy concerning their reality and their walk to truth.

Monday, September 17, 2012

In the pink

Grandma was a mobster
her truck was painted pink
She'd haul a load of lobster
and clean 'em in her sink

Everyone knew Grandma
and listened for the horn
Today she mowed down Grandpa
bent him over in the corn

She cried all night and day
until she bought that mink
Insurance paid her way
for piercings and some ink

A ring went in her nose
a diamond in her tongue
A tattoo of a rose
she'd only just begun...



  1. Hi Dixie: Did you write that? If so, I am really impressed; it's very original.
    Which came first the photo or the little gem of a verse?
    Click here for Bazza’s Blog ‘To Discover Ice’

  2. Bazza, I try to write all of my stuff. Really, I do. Some weird, some serious and some great(smile).

    The photo came first. Grandma's truck was actually black... I tweaked the story a bit.

    Thank you Mr. B.


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