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
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