When I was six,
I learned that I,
In twenty years,
Would surely die.

Now as a child,
I did not fret,
For twenty years,
Was a long time yet.

But time goes fast,
When you don’t watch,
And now I sit here,
Sipping my scotch.

On my twenty-first birthday,
For the sixth time,
Wondering if my final bell,
Is about to chime.

Or have I found a way,
To beat fate,
And slip past,
This morbid date.
written for – The Daily Post – The Number 26


16 responses to “26

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