Ray Travis wanted to be a writer,
It was his sole ambition,
But as things do so often,
Life got in the way.

Ray Travis was a good writer,
Everyone said so,
Although few actually read his words,
Life got in the way.

Ray Travis wore a uniform,
Fell in love, married, had children,
Then doctors, school, church,
Life got in the way.

Ray Travis served the war,
While others fought,
It left him a changed man,
Life got in the way.

Ray Travis did his twenty,
Began another career,
A commute, a house, responsibilities,
Life got in the way.

Ray Travis broke his heart,
A time bomb was in his chest,
There was no more time,
Life got in the way.

Ray Travis finally retired,
A spare room for his office,
A desk, a lamp, a computer,
Nothing could get in his way.

Ray Travis poured himself onto the page,
The words from a lifetime of disappointment,
Visions from a shackled imagination,
Then
Life got in the way.

Ray Travis woke up dead,
He was buried with his words,
He had wanted to tell his story,
But
Life got in the way.

©Copyright 2018 by Kevin Fraleigh