Because I’m old now, time
rushes by, as if it’s in a hurry
for me to die.

I didn’t want to know my dying
date when I was young, but
I’d kinda like to know it now.

That way I could plan ahead
and probably eat more ice cream,
pastries, and chocolate before
I died.

Maybe I’d do some important
things, but I can’t think of any
right now.

And at this age, it wouldn’t
frightened me to know my dying
day, and I’m good with expiring.

My hope is I’ll die by 85 instead
of 99 because the older you
grow, the longer it takes for you
to die, the more impaired you
will become.

And maybe you’ll lose your mind
to a dementia or Alzheimer’s,
so please God let me die at 85.

Bob Boyd