They say at the moment before your death,
You will have a piece of life flash before your eyes.
I wonder if it will catch my baby’s breath,
Or my very first butterflies.
I hope I will see all that is good,
Not my first love, but my last.
I hope I do not see the horrors of my childhood,
Or if I do, I hope it goes fast.
When my time comes, I hope it is filled
With all the I love
And all that I have fulfilled,
Warming my heart like a woollen glove.