Death When You Come Poem by RIC BASTASA

i am thinking when death comes,
i wish it has hands
to knock three times my
door
before it enters
chances for me to say
a prayer or two
for my safe and enjoyable
private journey into the
exciting unknown
to dress up
comb my hair
brush my teeth
and leave
a short handwritten message
for those who still do not
believe about
the propensity of life.

and then i will welcome
death
sweetly like a long lost
lover
that i kiss
lips to lips.