An Old Man Speaks About Death

 

“Well, I don’t see the percentage in it,”

He said. “What’s in it for me?

What do I get for my trouble?”

 

I told him it was traditional,

But this failed to impress him.

 

“You might get tired,” I said.

“Sure, I might,” he answered.

“I’d lie down for a spell.

No need for more than that.”

 

“You may not have a choice,”

I resorted to at last.

And he screwed up his face,

Suddenly sly.

 

“I’ll allow as how,” he confided,

“They may get me in the end.

But they can’t make me like it.”

And he moved on to other subjects.