Life Would Be Boring If You Weren't Dead Poem by Richard Wlodarski

If you awakened drenched in sweat on a cold morning
Shivering paralyzing cursing knowing you're dying
Would you step barefoot on the cold dark concrete floor
Looking for an exit from a sleazy back door?

If you snapped out of dozing off at your boring job
Cussing blurting shrieking in a momentous sob
Would you tippy-toe to your boss's cavernous hole
Addressing her highness with kindness selling your soul?

If halfway through the course of your afternoon delight
Flickering shuttering embracing darkest of sight
Would you race to the virginity of the light
Believing you weren't the stingiest in your fight?

If awakening of evening of the reckoning
Hallucinating resurrecting recuperating
Would you hug the iconic Timothy Leary
Trusting doctoring enabling humanity