Not Dead Yet

2 old 2 be a legend.

Way 2 young to be a corpse.

If I had 2 pick just 1 —

I’d stay alive o’ course.

* * *

Vanity, she combs my hair.

Conceit cleans up my face.

Futility conveniently

Sleeps over at my place

* * *

Tried to be a shadow.

’til the lights came right back on.

Got caught in a Kabuki jar—

My alibi was gone.

* * *

I’ve hurt 2 many people.

Seen way 2 many bleed.

Watched their life force fade away—

As uncle death suc-ceeds.

* * *

2 old 2 be a legend.

2 young to be a stiff.

Sorrow shames my epitaph—

Then slowly says, ‘What if?”