Bad living brings a worse death,
Checked every jar around my house finding no time left,
Hiding misery written on a shiny death sentence,
Crutches hid well don’t want pity as an offensive defense.
Spend time sparingly, might not be far off before lost knees,
Walking over sacred plans, canceled dreams abandoned in quicksand followed by piercing screams,
All meaning scrambled well, gird my loins preparing for shadows shredding sails.
But Lord I’m not ready yet.
God I’m not ready yet.
I feel so worthless surely this isn’t my purpose please sit and talk with me.
Hide tear-soaked pillows from loved ones,
Smile and pretend until a sudden end,
Cry before God as physical strength diminishes,
Ask why other precious ones before me fell asleep abruptly,
What about my mother’s goals and wants?
Please tell me she made it, tell me I didn’t ruin her life,
I know nothing, you are everything,
I’ve lived a few seconds, you’ve always been.
What are you thinking about after reading this?