(no subject)

To have been alive might not seem so unlikely,
But I can't be convinced I was meant to live this life,
Or any other I've seen close up. To die for
Decades like these is a trade I'd call (politely)
No kind of deal, but the deal was done, though no doer
Spotted on the scene. (The scene's manure.)

But supposing life had to be lived, death needed dying,
Supposing this way was a way just as wayward as others,
And any firm terra one's bound to's bound to be trying,
Then maybe I'd say if I had just a hint of my druthers
That I'd pay the non-man set to sell me the little I have
All the lives that I'd never live anyway, tears and a laugh.