Not Dead Yet
Futility conveniently sleeps over at my place.
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?”
About the Creator
j.s.lamb
Retired journalist. Author of "Orange Socks & Other Colorful Tales," a collection of short stories about how I survived the U.S. Navy and kept my sense of humor. (Available on Amazon.)
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