Bob Coley, Jr.

The hard steel rails

The hard steel rails of life faded in a mist
As anger screamed from my clenched and shaking fist
Why have all become these twisted steps in line
Tears of past accomplishment flooding through my mind

Feathers fall from my cap, disappearing charms
Loving eyes that look away, loose once loving arms
Friendly voices speak words that burn my ears
The pillow is a graveyard for my tears

The things that are no more are the planks
That builds a future, new and full of thanks
New feathers adorn a fresh new cap of sight
As the challenge yields to my spirit's might

Bob Coley, Jr. has MS and lives in a wheelchair. He is a former blacksmith (did not shoe horses), silversmith, glazier. He has worked for Josten's of Santa Barbara, Silent Steam, The Silver Feather, his own metal shop, and owned and operated a custom leather garment shop in downtown Albany, New York .