Early this morning, I had a conversation with the dead

Spoken quietly and earnestly about the year ahead

His silence spoke volumes about the coming year

And the need for me to get things into gear

It seems that we all have one final end

And that the time between is best spent with a friend

Not just a passing acquaintance that really won’t care

If he or she wakes up tomorrow and you’re not there

But one who counts the absence in seconds not days

And who puts their vulnerability on open display

Between now and that dark day when we meet the reaper

We should and must gather around those who are keepers

All else falls under that proverbial short, the folly of man

We can all do better than that, yes, I know that we can