The day we are born we all start dying,
It's the only thing in life we can do without trying.
Some go easy,
Some go hard,
We don't get to choose the draw of the card.
Two of my school buds didn't get to call
The way their roll of the dice would fall.
Enlisted early to pick their craft,
Didn't wait for the Army or the draft.
One to the Air Force, one to the Navy,
Neither thought their life would be all gravy.
One bought the farm on his very first flight
On a run over Germany one beautiful night.
Tailgunning a bomber is a very short life.
The other lad went down with his sub
With the ash cans falling from above.
I imagine his dying way down there,
Slowly, slowly, deprived of air.
When your number's called you have to go
Some go fast,
Some go slow.
It's the only thing in life you can do without trying,
Dying, dying, dying, dying.
George Hunter's Other Poems
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Comments about this poem (Dying Young by George Hunter )
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