Curse you, if you weep on my deathbed.
[Its mine, isn’t it? My right to lay the rules…]
Why cry, why depress me, on my death?
I know. Soon, I’ll be gone-
I’m weak, flimsy, dying;
(why rub it in?)
my face’s sunk in,
I look like death warmed up;
my speech’s slow, labored,
I fail to breath, am in pain,
hell, I AM dying!
Death’s no stranger-
is an old companion.
I’m no immortal to believe
in an everlasting life.
Life’s too harsh a reality
to forget Death’s constant constancy.
So why laud him, praise him, as he takes me?
Why celebrate him in my presence?
There’ll be time enough, when I’m gone,
and I don’t have to see, your downcast face.
Hold it friend, don’t think me amiss, but
dare not weep on my deathbed.
There’ll be time enough for that, later.
Just now, bless me with your smile,
your presence, your love-
show me your self for,
we’ll be parted soon,
and no time will there be for that, later.
©GayUganda 31 August 2008
You're my friend and I'll cry if I want to, cry if I want to, cry if I want to lalalala
Nah, kidding. I'll laugh in your face and squash your nose :P
was kind of wondering what you would say. But that is the thing. Laugh in my face, squash my nose, sit on me, make me laugh. But do not cry when i am still around. Ok?
Wow! This is so good, GUG!
I know I'm supposed to have gone off but I glimpsed this and then I just had to read it through and comment, of course.
Will be back to reread this though...
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