An Elegy For Mortality

Stand up and be counted
Or crouch down, on all fours
And skulk, slink, slide away
It’s better to live on your paws
Than die in any shape or form

Bipedal or quadrupedal, it
Matters not, we all fall and
Rot the same way, like pears
Tossed from the tree to the ground
Far too early, and food for the ants

What would you do with ten more years
What have you done with the last ten
The same shit on distant days
A memory haze
Drip, drop, through the catheter

So, all’s quiet on your front
Or is it louder than a thousand suns
And brighter than a bomb blast
Call it what you will, a day is a day
Is a day, forms a year

Sit down and drink this, comfortably numb
Like your knees and forepaws
Dose yourself, dope yourself
And face another day

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