The End of the Road.
I’m trudging down that long,
long road I have to follow
before I appear at the place
where death waits for me.
I’m gonna miss being alive
after I die. When I arrive at
the location marked for my
demise, I promise not to cry.
I’ll look at the bright side and
see that when I leave this world,
I’ll have angel wings and be able
to fly, sing, and be happy all day.
I begin to practice for what’s to
come. I build a set of wings and
jump off a cliff. With a broken leg
I sit with a rented harp on my lap.
A hymn leaves my lips, my neighbors
call the police and I’m arrested for
disturbing the peace, but that doesn’t
wipe the smile from my lips.
I’m practicing being happy here so I’ll
know how to act after I die, I tell the
angel from hell who wears a white coat
and asks me why I wear a happy mask.
I can’t tell a lie, so I say, “When I leave
this world and go on to the next, I’ll
be able to play my harp while I happily
fly around singing all the time.”
“You’re insane,” he says and takes me
downstairs to a padded cell where I can
sing and yell until I come to the end of
that road I have to travel before the end.