Running under skies of blue,
through the green grass of home,
a lifetime ahead of me,
thinking my life was completely free.
Little did I know,
my time was truthfully limited,
gray days into black nights,
now I ask who turned out the lights.
Around this time next year,
memories of my life,
will be all that's realistically left,
who do I blame for the untimely theft.
No one, times just takes you,
down a road less traveled,
jut waiting for peaceful serenity,
so much to be said for final destiny.
Like a film Noir slow motion,
flashing before my eyes,
saying sweet good-bye is done,
as I bravely await my terminal sun.
Timothy Michael DiVito c2020
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