THE LIVING...

He got up one morning, and a screw turned around,
A woman had killed herself, from what he had found,
And immediately, he thought of a friend called, "Todd,"
While a spirit within, said a prayer, "Dear Love..."

And the living, live, as the dying, die...
While sorrow-filled loved ones question, "why?"
And the giving, give, while the lying, lie;
Still, the invisible judge waits in the sky.

And the talking, talk, while the whispering, whisper,
Of things that would make a cool night, crisper...
And the moaning, moan, as the uttering, utter,
Truths that would could cause the callous to shudder.

He went to her wake; a haunting in his mind,
Of the former friend he left years behind...
Whose face he sees, down through the past.
He thinks of him, with every shotgun blast...!

As he looks into himself, he saw the signs,
And he reads the warnings between the lines;
He sees the living, live, and the dying, die.
"Pray that the Angel of Death, may pass you by."