Death

Lou FCDDeath,

She is a comin’

for every man but me,

I am not afraid of her,

Nor is she of me.

.

I’ve danced with her,

and laughed at her,

While jumping from a plane,

I’ve done things

that other beings,

have often called insane.

.

I’ll ride her tails,

through starry trails,

And skitter all through space,

And all the while,

I’ll fly in style,

And chuckle in her face.

.

If she wanted me,

I clearly see,

She’d done already came,

But I’m the thistle,

the fatty gristle,

That Death just couldn’t tame.

.

And since she can’t

or won’t or don’t,

I’d like to change my plea,

I’m still sure ,

I’m not afraid of her,

But I think she is of me.

L.

10/4/95

5 Responses to “Death”

  1. WhoreChurch Says:

    Hey, my comment didn’t show up. Might go into the spam filter. Ugh. Oh, well, I tried. Lou, hope you feel better.

  2. Lou FCD Says:

    Nope. Nothing in the spam filter.

    Strange. Thanks for trying, though.

    🙂

  3. Robyn Says:

    I love the concept of being the thistle or fatty gristle that death just doesn’t want. great imagery

  4. Lou FCD Says:

    Thanks. I’ve always really thought this was a great description of how I view life and death.

    It was one of my better attempts at meter and rhyme, I think.

    Of course, I might be biased…

    🙂


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