When Death Stares
Death, grotesque, stared.
My mind snared.
Memories unrolled most revered.
Dear wife and children adhered.
Brothers and sisters remembered.
Worldly responsibilities unfinished.
Regrets unaccomplished.
What would happen
to my wife and children?
Who’d look after them?
Who’d love them?
What would happen when I’m gone?
I’ll miss them and they’ll mourn.
Their hearts will cry.
Their tears run dry.
That was a nasty dream.
It shook and gave me the hint.
What I should do to remember
all things I hold dear.
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