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