Truth About Death

I see a girl taking a cab

After her father just drove her off

Girls gossips say she is going to skip class

Going to meet some friends out

I see a little boy running

Another man behind him screaming “thief, thief!”

I hear some gunshots

A man must have gone mad

Killed his wife or maybe his lad

I keep on walking till I reach my destination

“Where am I?”

Is the one million dollar question

A bus, a big one

Almost hit me

“Oh, that was close”

I murmured

I was about to die!

But hey, I didn’t


The next day I saw the same girl

Same old same old

Father, dropped, She, cab, elsewhere

My friend called me to meet her at the doc’s

there, I saw the same girl

She is on chemo therapy

Doesn’t want to burden her parents

Doesn’t want to tell them the sad news

That she will be leaving them very soon

The same boy I saw that day

He was sitting on the sidewalk  crying

The boy just embraced me

A complete stranger there I was standing

“What’s wrong, boy?”

“My mother, she is dying.”

I stood there paralyzed

Holding a boy I met once

Now it’s twice

I couldn’t do anything I just stood there

Thinking “is this really fair?”


Oh, that’s out of my hand

I felt tongue-tied

Then I saw the man,

Who shot his daughter or son

Or so I thought,

Celebrating with his family

A death?

Of course no

A thief was in their home

He shot him defending his house


Another bus almost hit me

No this time it was just a car

O death, are you finding troubles in reaping my soul?

And bang something suddenly hit me

It was neither a bus nor a car

An idea just found its way

Death comes past us every day

It never misses or moves to the next in line

It’s just not yet our time

Not this time

But it’s surely some other time

Could be, maybe, probably, perhaps

Next time.


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