I HATE THE THOUGHT OF DYING

I hate the thought of dying!

Where will all the green hills go,
The azure blue of the sky,
The tender touch of my children's hands,

The loving gaze,
The unquestioning trust?

Where will all the love go,
The gentle smiles of friendship,
The joys and recollections of happy days,
The lifetime of social intercourse?

Where will the joys of family go,
The thereness of my wife,
The binding ties that give me life,
The sense of worth and being loved.

Where will all that go?

© 1997 by Pasqual S. Schievella