People Who Died

They pile up, don’t they?
Like jokes that stop being funny,
Like warnings nobody takes seriously.
Every name’s a punchline God won’t explain,

My friend Bobby fell out of a tree,
Gravity kept better promises than he.
One bad branch, one second too long, and a man full of gifts was gone.

My friend Frank tied a rope around his pain,

He wanted it all to end, but it was in vain.

His suffering did not end, it was transferred to us, in some Satanic game.

My friend Billy burned so bright

then exited too soon... stage right.

My other Frank lived a hundred years in fifty flat,
Burned both ends and the middle of the match.
Aged like whiskey spilled on concrete floors,
Still laughing while the clock begged for mercy and more.

And I’m next.

I know the drill.
Not heroic, not tragic, just stubborn will.
I said everything I had to say,
No glory, no shame, I’ll just fade away,

Just me and God now.

One more prayer,

“Give me peace, no time to spare. “