The Day You Die Poem by Herbert Nehrlich

So, since she asked, I told my wife
that all of us will die some day
and in the first five years of life
ye Gods reveal to us, you may
not be a true believer yet
our cause of death, yes it is true
hence no one needs to ever fret
look to the doctor for a clue
or take those pills for various ills
have operations on your heart.

You want to know what really kills?
I'll tell you this, just for a start
it is no use to be a guessor
at any age, you won't unravel
as much as that teenie professor
who's starting only his long travel
so please believe me, no one ever
will know as much about your fate
and after five your mind, once clever
now at a loss will just debate
the merits of longevity
It is no use, your days are numbered
the question of when Not To Be
with which you keep yourself encumbered
is mute and dumb and out of season
just wander back as I have mentioned
and find the date, also the reason
for your demise, which, well-intentioned
is written on the wall for you
forget all other fancy stuff
live your existence as I do
until the Gods say, 'That's enough.'