Dying

I won't be dying of old age Said to me the sage, It won't be because of numerous years That will bring forth sadness and tears. When they bury me in the cold, cold ground, The truth then will be found. I won't be dying of a disease Which will have brought me to my knees, Spoke to me the physician And one day speaking to my family the mortician. When they bury me in the ground deep, Then the truth many will weep. I won't be dying from someone else's plan Said to me the wise old man, My death won't come from the hands of another person Who at me will be hating and cursin'. When I am lowered inside my grave, I will not be hated, but remembered righteous and brave. I won't be dying from an accident that will occur Spoke to me the philosopher, Nor will I die from ignorance said the teacher And I will not die from a sin preached the preacher. When from this world I finally do depart, I will have died spoke the poet, from a broken heart. Randy L. McClave