I feel I’m not going to last too long
Although nothing seems to be wrong
Whether this is true I don’t know
If indeed I shall cease to glow
I’m not even sure that I have a great passion for life
The thought of my demise
Seems somehow poetic
But that is just pathetic
Because there is no reason it should
Death most certainly will be crude
The thought of my demise
The stopping of my life
Seems somehow poetic
Like a lyric
Yet why should my death have meaning
With rebirth gleaming
For after all, in what way am I better than a rat
Just because I think and chat
Who is to say a rat doesn’t think
Yet his relatives don’t gather when he sinks
I am the earth’s burden
Being human doesn’t ascertain
I am unique
And my tata will have no mystique
Nothing will remain of my body or soul
In life’s drama will end my role