Poetry break: Before you die

gums bleeding

hairline, receding

did you live your best day?

mother's gift

must admit

didn't make much of it

when is it officially "too late?"

hearts beating

lungs, breathing

reliable

like seconds on a clock

then, one day it just stops

the bubble pops

everyone knows

it's how it goes

but no one's sure

where they're going

sky full clouds?

burning abyss?

awakened dreamer?

permanent sleeper?

or maybe,

a place very similar

to this

err with caution

the line you're walking

testy as it's thin

pleasurable acts

beyond imagined

lie in sin

bound to and tucked in

a hell bound hand basket

a fate uncertain

not depending

on what you

prescribe to, pray for

or, believe in

screw the wager

here's the world saver:

just be a good fucking person

ACTually

because morality has the faculty

to create an ideal

utopian reality

regardless of where you go when you die