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Poem

Twas on a night of December
The 25th, I do remember
When a young man knelt inside his house

Alcoholic drink, down his throat spent 
It was easy for me to know where his thoughts went
For here he told his secrets deep

Here he cried about wife and children lost
About his heart, a bitter chunk of frost
About his friends who now shun him

About his car which he did wreak
Which his insurance did not give a speck
And his house which was in shambles

Here he yelled, to God, to anyone could hear him
To anyone and anything he’s seen on film
To everyone who has existed, even those dead

But most of all he cried to me
I, Death, he did not want to flee
But he was not on my list

Now this you must understand
I would not have stopped here without some demand
For I was not due at his door

Some people to death do crawl
Especially after some big fall
But he merely needed one small push

So I knelt by his form
And soothed his raging storm
With a hug given, both real and felt

Here I had awakened the fire bright
I returned in him his desperate fight
And melted his icy heart

His heart, though still sore
Prompted his thanks to implore
To those forces to him unknown

While his soul I will one day keep
Right then only two words did I reap
The two words “forgive me”

And the “please” didn’t hurt

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