Old soul, that of a poet, voice
drenched in whiskey, melancholy
and grief. A long time to bleed the blues;
they don’t happen by themselves.
You won’t fully understand
until you suffer.

Long shadow of the darkest day
reaches out, a reminder always of
the brother you cannot forget.
Nothing and nobody will let you,
when the band
carries your name.

Decades of harsh addiction, criticism,
celebrity gossip and half-truths. A
survivor. More than a relic, more
than a footnote, not a turning point
but a sign on the
rock and roll highway.

Playing for yesterday, like he
meant it, heritage fills time with
old emotion and the truth. Resolution
comes only when allowed. Tomorrow
is no longer his, but
the voice rings out forever.

©2017 j.g. lewis

R.I.P
Gregg Allman
1947-2017