i often wonder
if i die at 27
will people call
me a genius

tortured writer.
whose broken soul
led him to
death with
plenty left behind.

or if i die
at 88 will they
just say i was
dead at 88.

nothing special about
88 just
dead at 88. no intrigue
just dreams i
lived to see fail.

you cant actually
die at 27
you just cant
live it through
to fail.

i will write a
hymn for every
sunrise until i am
blind. but pray i die
at 27. and build my
statue in gold.