Maybe dyin’s not so bad, ya know,
You go to the place where everybody goes,
George Washington, William Shakespeare
Jimi Hendrix, Cleopatra, our grandfathers,
And children, they all go there.
Besides it’s not really a where,
It’s not even a place you can go.
But then again, who really knows..
Dyin’s not good and it’s not easy for anyone
Especially those who lose the ones who die,
It’s terrible, whether they’re taken before
Or after their time
Because it’s something so precious, so fragile,
Yet willing and strong, how magnificent is a human life.
Yet we exit the world just we came,
Scarred, ignorant, selfish in shame
And the living are forever misplacing the blame
As the world is ever changing,
Never still, it’s a process, just like a flame.
What can we say of the dead, how do we grieve,
I don’t understand it when there’s no reprieve,
All the beautiful words all the touch, all the feel
The desperate questions, Why why why
We are greeted with silence,
As it will be
When it is our turn to die.