Finally, you’re dead!
Well then, it happened anyway.
I must say, you planned it perfectly:
No tubes, IVs or beeping machines,
No nursing home purgatory.
Consider all that fuss over
Breathing and dreaming,
Making love, making money,
Busy, busy, busy
The rise and fall of your chest,
Relentless – the hellish wait.
And finally, the funeral,
The grim-faced procession,
Slow drone of the priest,
Sickly sweet eulogy,
The garish lamentation, the tears.
(Those will dry up soon enough.)
Finally, your memory begins
To fade – you a vague history.
All that you know, spoke, wrote,
Constructed, poked, is insignificant.
Relish this! It’s nothing personal,
Simply the way of things.