When Death Doth Cometh 'fore Ye { For A Friend }

After Death Hath Cometh 'fore Ye { For A Friend } - Poem by Frank James Ryan Jr (FjR) In separate worlds live surfeit minds, disagreement veiled by assumptive snap - to judgement, by minds of stone and pride that Webster labels fatuous. But trust me, as you surely know- that all of this will someday pass away, as so will you and I...dear friend, and when that someday comes ther'll be nil time for wood and nails in mending broken fences that- for years we've swung and struck to shard, and shavings, just to share the job of cleaning up the dust and attitudes that paints a fence of black and blue, a gaunt and sullen ambience that fills the air about us stenched mundungusly, like old cigars at pool halls with a second floor with whores that never close. For the only gauge when Death does rap upon our doors, and steals our breath is how we were perceived in Life, by those we held in high respect, how people weigh our good and bad while kneeling on the pew before our boxes...yes, you and me...my friend, chattering amongst themselves in corners by the yellowed torchere lamps. Will we be seen as men of character or Iscariots in business and loyalties? Yet, in the scheme of where we'll lay to rest with all of they who think themselves better than they ever were, does it really matter what they think, or what we think of they when Death doth cometh 'fore ye. 20014-All rights reserved Frank James Ryan Jr. / FjR W