Will this be the year you die
I only ask
So I can plan ahead
To be inconvenienced
Will this be the year you die
I only ask
So I can plan ahead
To be inconvenienced
Oh..this one has a bit at the end.
A short but extremely interesting poem. I fret constantly that I am going to be forced to deal with the death on a close, intimate level within the next few years. It’s a constantly disturbing, ramshackle sort of feeling…
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