Time: 76.5 Poem by Edmundo Farolan
Time: 76.5
I'm seventy six and a half.
When will death claim me?
I have both feet in the grave.
My grave like quicksand
Is slowly dragging me in.
There's so much
In my past. The good,
The bad, the happy,
The sad.
Life still goes on,
At a quick pace
Until that final moment,
That rueful word: timeout.
Tuesday, June 2, 2020
Topic(s) of this poem: death
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4/25/2024 10:07:52 PM # 1.0.0.1119
