Cast iron contract.

[poeticpiers]

Cast iron contract.

My old friend death called in today.
As he was passing on his way.
To free an old man from his pain.
He felt obliged to ask again.

If I had changed my mind yet.
Had I some reason to regret
I know he’s only teasing me
because I have his guarantee.

We made a pact long years ago.
That he would be the first to know
When I decide to change my mind
and leave this woeful world behind.

He keeps a friendly eye on me
his way of being neighbourly.
I know he’s waiting patiently
The final choice is left to me.

When I decide its time to go
I only have to let him know.
He will respond immediately
Maintaining the integrity.

Of the pact made long ago.
Death is not an enemy
He is the friend that sets you free
when you decide its time to go.

Not everybody takes the chance
to state their wishes in advance
Though death’s prepared to listen to
The few who know these words are true.

Friday, 18 February 2011
http:// blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers.

[bags123]

I haven't read a poem that you've written, that I didn't like. Perhaps it's because we both seem to appreciate a good rhyme eh? Enjoyed Ivor.