My Hymn

The Face in the Door ~ Brent Harris

The Face in the Door ~ Brent Harris

There are so many things to do, to start
All the online petitions that I should sign
Lots I should take from my shopping cart
As I twiddle my thumbs in the grocery line

Too much meat, too much sugar, I know
Too many causes clamor for my attention
Barely energy to wipe myself, when I go
Or to consider the state of my condition

Are you young, connected and on the way
Perhaps you’d be better to take my place
Unless predicted miracles my demise delay
Lack of food and water won’t end my race

You may think me foolish or call me callous
Our downhill slide started before I arrived
You may recall these bad times, be jealous
Never know, to survive, we juked and jived

In the first world; perhaps now the second
We mostly struggled our days, lives unsure
I wonder how our legacy will be reckoned
Where rich and poor both fraught in fear

Days like this one, make me want to lament
Oh wait, I forget, that’s just about all of them
Assisted suicide may become our sacrament
Nearer my chosen deity or oblivion my hymn

Most sure more years behind me than ahead
Screams, pain, madness, thinly reach my ears
Difficult each task, thought, at rising unto bed
Alive past sense, hope, no way to end my years

Though I often write about change and choice
An online petition, front line position little do
Prove me wrong or let me die at peace, rejoice
Till then, I’ll get on as I can, hope we get a clue


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