Crosswords2 mins ago
Not Dead Yet.
48 Answers
I'm not dead yet, I simply refuse to go yet.
If that Grim Reaper comes anywhere near me, I'll use extreme violence to send him packing, with a flea in his ear, and stubbornly refuse to make a further appointment.
That'll learn him :-)
If that Grim Reaper comes anywhere near me, I'll use extreme violence to send him packing, with a flea in his ear, and stubbornly refuse to make a further appointment.
That'll learn him :-)
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For more on marking an answer as the "Best Answer", please visit our FAQ.Though I do still suffer from depression, it is nowhere near as bad as it used to be. Those were dark days indeed and on more than one occasion, I actually contemplated ending it all. I found that writing helped me get through some of the bad days and this is a poem I wrote the morning after pondering my place on this planet. Though rather morbid, I do believe it is apt for this thread:-)
Death he came a-calling, one cold but moonlit night
When I first laid eyes upon him, he gave me such a fright
"I'm not ready for you, yet," I said, "I need time to prepare."
His steely gaze never wavered, 'twas as if he didn't care
A gnarled, crooked finger beckoned. "Come with me," he said
"But I've told you," I protested, "I'm not ready to be dead."
His steely gaze crew colder, stale breath escaped his lips
His bony hand reached out for me, "Your number's up," he hissed
I fended off his skeletal grasp, and slammed the door, tight shut
Yet as I watched him walk away, I had a feeling in my gut
That death would come a-calling, one cold but sunlit night
And next I laid eyes upon him, i'd give up the fight.
Death he came a-calling, one cold but moonlit night
When I first laid eyes upon him, he gave me such a fright
"I'm not ready for you, yet," I said, "I need time to prepare."
His steely gaze never wavered, 'twas as if he didn't care
A gnarled, crooked finger beckoned. "Come with me," he said
"But I've told you," I protested, "I'm not ready to be dead."
His steely gaze crew colder, stale breath escaped his lips
His bony hand reached out for me, "Your number's up," he hissed
I fended off his skeletal grasp, and slammed the door, tight shut
Yet as I watched him walk away, I had a feeling in my gut
That death would come a-calling, one cold but sunlit night
And next I laid eyes upon him, i'd give up the fight.