Heart-Shaped Bed

Bogart is dead

Has been for a long time

Died in a heart-shaped bed,

With two women,

Who’s names he could no longer


Dead in the heart-shaped bed,

With a cigarette still burning

And ice still in his glass

Long after he left us

His movies play as re-runs

Shown so many time,

I know all the lines

By heart

It was a good life,

You might say

But a marked curiosity

And an aging, weakening heart

Will eventually grab,

For us all in the end

Poor old Bogart

Never got to leave

The heart-shaped bed,

Never finished that last smoke

Or the final sip of his drink

But, in the long years to come

He can remember

The two women he left,

In that heart-shaped bed

And we’re stuck all alone,

With the re-runs

And the lines known

By heart

© DickyJ Loweman 2015



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