I took a walk indulged in that
ignoble state of mind in which
I feel forgotten by my friends.
And when I reached the traffic lights,
I thought I safely took my way.

But what if, having succeeded
to cross the road, I have died,
and walk on coma-like, thinking
that I live on when really I
am lying in a bed somewhere?

Maybe if I find my new ward
and enter in my formless way,
I might well see myself adored
before I duly slip away.