For me it’s a middle-aged death

Not become a bore, sore

At my own time and choosing death

At my books and music, gathering weird looks

At the end of the chapter, death

 

When I get into my mid-sixties

And before the winter of life starts

Keep me from vengeful doctors

Plotting to keep me alive and expecting thanks

In way of tax

For the their benefit

 

Save me from the worry of children

Leaving children leaving children

At my ever frail thoughts

Sniggering in teenage glee

That their Granddad’s way so last century

When at two they hung on my words of wonderful insanity

 

Let me die a middle-aged death

Not in flippancy and pain, where’s the gain

Of a heart attack death

Restricted food, put on pills – keep paying bills

What a waste of my life – death

 

Let me know my own mind at time of death

One final journey, save getting the court attorney

To decide on what’s best for me death

To decide good cheer, one more round of beer

Je ne regrette mort- death.

 

Ian D. Hall