My father felt unwell that day.
he'd tripped on cobblestones.
It was expected that he rest
in bed his weary bones.
...
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A poem that began somberly, but by the time i finished reading it I had a smile on my face. I enjoyed it!
Allan, the thought of an ejector seat had occurred to me, failing that, a good supply of helium balloons.Standing will wear the brain stem and nuchal ligaments, not to mention the various joints of the extremeties. Some turkey is marking us down again, their idea of being creative. Best wishes, H
Death is a deadly affair, no one has cheated death yet, why not die in a chair though myself would rather be suspended by a rope from the ceiling allowing me to stand up, this i hope will allow me to take of to heaven giving me a standing start, in case there is a race involved Warm regards allan
I too want to face death, if not standing, at least sitting up straight, preferably with my fists raised! In my experience, one gets caught by surprise though. Thanks for a poem which says it all.