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.