My Good Friend Death

Death is like a best friend

Always there to save you from boredom.

As you lie alone at night,

He comes to visit all your thoughts.

You watch him walk through the doors of your mind

Poking at the more curious objects;

Philosophy, Love and Hope of Immortality.

These are the things young Death does not grasp.

 

He opens each filing cabinet

Containing someone you love.

But never fear, he means no harm,

He’s just curious.

He wants to remember the faces of those

He should visit later on.

 

Oh dear Death! Quite the social butterfly,

Always looking for new parties to attend.

He once told me he enjoys a Molotov cocktail

Every now and again.

I’ve never had one myself,

But he assures me they’re delightful.

 

He’s funny, Death;

A comedian.

He likes to play roles, if you will.

Some days he is a horror!

He didn’t shower before his visit,

He smells.

And on those days he dresses in black

Sweatshirts to keep in the odor.

 

And other days he’s more than welcome!

Always there to comfort you,

With a nice bouquet of daisies.

He helps you wipe away the tears,

Rub your shoulders for a minute,

‘Till you don’t think of him anymore.

 

“Isn’t that rude?” you may ask,

“To forget about your friend Death,

Who helped you through those nights?”

And to this I must simply reply, “No.”

 

You see Death is a firm believer

In unrequited friendship.

Because for some reason

No matter how much you take death for granted,

He is always quick with an invitation.

Says he won’t be satisfied until he’s had a visit

With everyone who’s ever lived.