You Want Me? Poem by Herbert Nehrlich

And would you tell me, Lord
why some of us can die
without the hassles and the pains,
Cheyne-Stokes type breathing
and the full awareness
of it all until it ends?

I know I'd be concerned about
the stoppage of the flow
of life-preserving oxygen
into my lungs and all,

how could you then expect me
to accept a heart of stone
to take the place of my old faithful,
and, even more importantly
if you would think about
the effort that it took,
the skill and diligence
to make
a human being.

One like me, with idiosyncrasies,
a mind full of ideas and facts.

Remember, too, abdominals, obliques
and muscles for the marathon.
I beg you, God, to kindly reconsider.
It seems like such a waste!