Thinking of Death

I live my life like Death will pass me by.

   I plan like there will always be tomorrow.

Convinced that only other people die,

   I mourn their loss with mixed relief and sorrow.

Death is the tiger that I cannot see;

   The jungles of the day-to-day conceal it.

Death is the knife that’s always aimed at me;

   Like happiness, just other people feel it.

Life is the great rigged game Death plays with me,

   Making me think that I am in the clover.

I get the ball for years and score scot-free.

   Death only has to play once, and Game Over.

      I hold the key, but haven’t got a clue.

      I think of death, but never think it through.

Copyright 2017 Matthew J Wells