The Bus

Death snared me in its icy grip... It brought my end of days. I saw not the bastard coming... First a bus and then the grave. I should have been more measured... Not been idle with my time. But my eyes were on the future... I had mountains still to climb. Who's to blame? A Universe With a proclivity to deceive... While those who stand above May yet find some good in me. To my treasured friends and family... I lay humbled by your care. And Mother... don't be too distressed... I wore clean underwear. The End