Poem 314 – I Had Not Thought to Die This Way

I had not thought to die this way,
Without cause, honour or fame,
No golden child behind me,
No medals to my name;
No silver hair upon my brow,
Not a love I could call mine,
Just a pointless death, one less life,
Murdered only by time.


Dear readers,

I write a great deal about death, but too rarely about death that does not fall into conventional categories of ‘noble’, ‘noteworthy’ or ‘worthwhile’. This is rather foolish, since I doubt few people end their time in such a way, and it seems disrespectful to not reflect that experience of simply dying because one is dying. It is also, considering current affairs, considerably more pleasant than reflecting on the deaths that are ‘noteworthy’ according to the media. Not better, but easier.

Kind regards,

The Hapless Neo-Romantic

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