I had a long lost friend once,
he said "life is a trip"
I listened to him intently and
bit my bottom lip.
Because I knew what was coming,
what loomed far up ahead,
our lives are slowly ending,
in 100 years we'll all be dead.
Dying people shouldn't dream,
they shouldn't hope to fly,
We should be good to ourselves,
and sit and sip before we die.
Gallivanting and gyrating
will only hasten sleep,
and death will leap upon you,
while on quiet it will creep.
I pity the fools who live each day,
denying there's an end,
while I know sitting, sleeping here,
each hour is on lend
and though I have seen nothing
and count existence as a bore,
I know that when the darkness calls,
My friend will miss life more.
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