NOT DEAD YET
Is this the day of my demise?
Is this the day I needn’t rise?
The tendency to roost in bed
belies the fact I aint yet dead.
Induced to rise by bladders call
tells me it’s not the end at all.
The summons of the judgement day
will not be served on me today.
The reaper with his scythe and hood
has shuffled off and so he should.
Still closed above is heaven’s gate
the big long box can sit and wait.