We go on in the same old way,

Until, one day,

We brush against the Reaper, who will say,

“Man’s day is brief

And must end in grief”.

Then he may smile

And pass by for a while.

But he will return one day

For we are clay.

.

Or we simply fall asleep

And fail to wake.

Sometimes friends and family weep.

But the Reaper takes

And never returns.

Therefore we should learn

To spend our days

In joyful play

For we know not

When or what.

Copyright: Kevin Morris