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