The Only Good Thing About Death
the only good thing about death
is the death of something bad:
it is no surprise my neighbor’s wives
prayed for the death
of their husband’s drunk smiles.
some people said some people killed
some people, instead some informed people said
good people killed the bad ones
the way death kills the next one
in its everlasting list.
nothing is more beautiful than living
until the life in the afterlife
is sky-censored of free will to laugh at jokes,
to sleep at the break of day after breakfasting,
to air one’s voice so loud in joy
of getting things done, to love without
heartbreaking. nothing is more beautiful
than living until death makes us regret,
out of happiness, living at all.
nothing is more miserable than leaving
without getting to say goodbye until
the leaving becomes the outlet of things
so precious we never had.
the death of something bad
is the only good thing about death
so, in my daily prayer, i open my purest mind
into existence to make me leave tomorrow
as if, in everyone’s mind, i never live enough.
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