It’s begun to stick out
Becoming its own entity
Does not hurt
Except when I swallow
But don’t let me wallow
In self pity
This growth of mine
Is rather kind
As in it I know
Where my life does go
And that I am sooner there
Not scared
Or even worried
A friend does wait
No pearly gate
A path of wispy grasses
My dear friend there with shovel
Having chosen that spot
Where ***** will be sunk
Scooping from dirt no reasons
We shall then politely plunk
This growth
No longer will it choke
Memories of our lost seasons