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