- Non-Erotic Poetry
- When Death Comes
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When death comes like a starving child desperate for nourishment,
Crying from the pain in her stomach.
When death comes like a junkie who’s finally taken a dose over the line,
Smiling from the bliss of his last high.
When death comes like a homeless transvestite prostitute,
Freezing ‘til her heart stops cuz she couldn’t make her rent.
I want to step through the door full of satisfaction with the knowledge that I lived my life to the fullest,
Rich with the passion of my soul.
And therefore, I look upon everything as it is,
Something I cannot control.
And I think of each life as an opportunity to move beyond the mundane,
And each body as precious to hold,
Worthy of love.
When its over I want to say nothing held me back,
Nothing kept me from seeking my true self,
Living a life with meaning.
When its over I don’t want to wonder if there was more for me,
More I could have done for myself and my friends.
I don’t want to end up being just another name on a headstone,
Another obituary in my local newspaper,
Another regretted life.
