My Number

Never have i ever seen a day with 
Much  more gloom
If I gave  a damn i would say that
I am a perfect  imperfection anyone
Could know.  born of unpleasant 
Circumstances 

Growing up i liked to chase birds
From my fire escape when we 
Lived in the city  when I grew old I
Shamed to etch the momentary 
Themes in life.  All of the mile 
Stones  passed me by.
As I passed one hundred years I
Knew  death by name.  

The grim Repear  some would whisper 
Caring not for their day.  I
Maneuvered all precautions not
To let him in, my friend.  he was cunning.
he was the one that didn't let me out of
My flower filled casket.  It was
Then that I took my final bow.  My
Number was up. 

The grim Repear was there searching 
For the next victim of their final
Fate.  Can't escape death he
Sneered as he leered when they
Carefully lowered me entombed 
Be at peace  one said.  Live 
Cautiously for death rules this
Catastrophic plateau droned the
Wisdom of the preacher

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