Such a Quandary
To get the big prize I have to die
I can get myself there rapidly or die a slow painful death.
It’s my choice; my parents did not choose wisely.
They both had lingering, sad, painful “I want to die” deaths.
Unfortunately, by the time they got there
There was nothing they can do about it.
Heaven is the prize right?
If I off myself, some people think I will not make it.
I will go to the frying pan place instead.
Not being super sure about it, I consider it.
Part of me knows if I get older and infirmed
My children will resolutely keep me alive
even though I feel dead.
I do not want that!
To go now
or to wait and see
That is the question.
And what if there is no heaven?
Is being a particle of dust in the air the prize?
Will a cat or dog chase me at least when that happens?
Such a quandary.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
