She was born in the year

I came here

To live and work.

She will thrive when time’s scythe

Has ended me.

 

I feel no jerk

Of sudden fear

Of the Reaper as he draws near.

 

I have felt lust

And feared dust.

But today I simply say my goodbye

And accept that I

Will, one day die.

 

The train moves on.

She is gone.

And I will do my work today.