Monday, 26 January 2015

Die?

Die?

Assist me to die?
When I’ve barely lived,
Loved or danced bare foot
At dawn down London’s
Silvered streets.

Why should I die?
When life beckons
Me to sample
Some of what
She has on offer.

Don’t ask me to die
Just because
I don’t fit into
A world order
That celebrates the superficial.

Don’t expect me die
Without a fight
Roaring and scratching
Punching and kicking
Until the lights go out.

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