Rhythmic wheeze from deep in the chest,
Noble soul held hostage by life’s tenuous thread,
Didn’t want to suffer or linger, that’s best,
You don’t get to choose the moments before you’re dead.
Brave age, softened eyes, blink back tears,
Make sure everything that needs to be said,
A hug and a kiss to hold at bay the fears,
There are no answers when you are dead.
Is it better to go quickly or slow?
To say goodbye or wait for it?
The answer, "I don’t know."
Either way is shit.
Toll too steeps,