I’m old, don’t start with me
Don’t talk of deadlines
Or complain about the occasional
Twitch of middle age
There are people I know,
Who worry that death will take them
Before their great work is done
Others who panic
Thinking their great work,
Having taken place in irascible youth,
Will fade without recognition
Or that the world, God forbid,
And all its minions,
Might come to misconstrue
Their contribution, mistaking it for exuberance.
As for me, it could happen
That I’m done before I die,
Timing, they say, is everything.
Walking alone side the fact of life’s meaning, we realize how unimportant is all we thought was… very profound your depths….
I think my issues are so profound, then I pass by a graveyard…
I’m still young and think every now and then what if I die before I’ve done my work. Death can come any time… 🙂
Indeed. But graveyards are filled with important work undone, and yet the world goes on.