Jeffrie Phillip Reardon

Looking back at a black and white picture
A little boy with thick curly hair
Sitting next to his young sister
On a home made swing,
Being gently pushed by loving hands of their dad.

Time goes by and Jeffrie embraces life to the fullest,
Impersonating Crocodile Dundee he chased real, live snakes,
Played cowboys and Indians, with real arrows,
Motor bike riding like Evel Knievel,
That curly haired boy,
Oh what mischief He would find.

High school was a bore for him, never fitting in
When he was old enough to leave, he shouted yippee.

Jeff became Australians first Apprentice Market Gardner
and money soon rolled in.
He purchased a two door Monaro that
Became his pride and joy.

Cars and hormones did not mix
Often being chased by local police.
Eventually girls he noticed
Fell in love and married.
A child was born, Oh boy.
Ski boats where no longer fast enough
So jet boat racing was the next best thing.
Its name Head Rush, what a sight
A boy with a big toy, just right.

The mirage soured and so he found Himself alone.
Abandoned, rejected thinking he was nothing.
Love came calling once more.
That also became no more
Totally shattered by two failures, he
Blamed himself.

His own business was booming
Mates where plentiful,
Families love poured out to him
But this did not matter as
Darkness closed in, suffocating
His every being.
Soon the sadness won
A rope, a bucket was all he needed
His pain and suffering would be no more.

Jeff is at peace now, but the
World has lost another, to what
I call the silent killer.