Ode to Kris Kristofferson

The singer from the past stood on the stage,

his beard white, his curved stance showing his age.

With guitar in hand, he strummed a familiar song.

The crowd shouted, clapped, kept urging him on.

He sang about spending many long Sundays,

filled with an aching loneliness, his mind in a haze.

He related his crashing-into-a-cop-car tale

that resulted in one God-awful night in jail.

He told stories of his addiction to drugs and booze,

describing a life without care, long days of abuse.

His remorse-filled verses were earthy and true.

A longing for redemption began seeping through.

As he walked offstage, the crowd began to roar,

whistling, clapping,shouting, "We want more."

He walked back out said, "My wife told me no,

but I am determined to sing this song, so lets go."

Daughter, Kelly, came on stage, stood by his side.

Kris sang, asking forgiveness with nothing to hide.

His voice was on fire as he played his trusty guitar.

This once fallen man proved that he had come far.

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