A Good Death

Once thought there might be answers, but again I might be wrong, To say I'm wrong's an answer too, you game to tag along? For all our answers share our fate, they just belong to man, No matter what you scream or pray there's no way to prolong, The lemmings headed for a cliff, that's home, where you belong, For men do not create themselves. Some claim that no God can!) Another answer, you get that? No winners, none can lose. For either one would mean there's choice? Apparently, a ruse? The lemmings reach a fevered pitch; the cliff looms just ahead What's this you're having second thoughts? If you've a choice, then choose. The end is near; you're full of fear, you wish you had some booze, But jokes on you the cliff goes up, and you thought you were dead. Long Tooth January 12, 2018