Someday,
they will find me sitting
with the smell of whiskey on my breath,
my pen, having run out of its ink.
Until then,
I cut caffeine,
shave the sugar,
and fell the fats.
I excel in exercise,
meditate in mindfulness
and load up on fruits and vegetables,
with little left to do to hedge my bet.
And when my work is done,
my task complete,
I pray a gentle hand
will guide me to the chair.
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Well said, but sad. We can ‘work’ diligently, but when the ‘hand’ beckons, we have no choice but to go.
Live long and prosper my friend!