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by Cuthbert

I feel my life ebb, although I'm still here,
Is time passing by? It is, and I fear,
So much to do and so much to be seen,
I've missed oh so much of things that have been,
The future unsure, it could end in a day,
One button is all that keeps world war at bay,
My life isn't my own, it belongs to Westminster,
Where the 'suits' concoct all things sinister,
I am born, I grow, I talk and I learn,
And lose all the time to do the things that I yearn,
When my time comes, I will rejoice and embrace,
The freedom fate gives me, from the human race,
If I die from old age, a miracle it will be,
But die in my sixties, I'll enjoy being let free,
Closing my eyes, a last breath of the air,
What will I see, once I am there?
I hope for a vision of a pure land shining bright,
As I slip from the world and go into the light.

© Cuthbert 2011


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