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To be read on the cliffs of Dover before firing my ashes from a cannon (offshore wind)

You all know how I died,

And I do not.

But I hope it was a fantastic

Spectacle of how to make your heart stop.

 

I hope I died flying backwards

in a crimson ball of flame,

Or fighting off a tiger

that never could to tame.

 

I hope I died with a smile on my face,

Beaming from ear to ear,

Or laughing so that everyone around

Could hear.

 

I hope I died doing something

To which my mother always said “No”,

“But if we don’t try,

How will we ever know?”

 

I hope I died not waiting for

Air to no longer suffice,

Lying in a bed with a tube

In every orifice.

 

I hope you did not let me age

And forget you,

Because I would be

Filled with regret too.

 

So I hope it was a spectacular expression

Of more than just existing,

I hope they oohed and aahed while

I flew through the air a-twisting.

 

And I can see some of you are grieving,

yet I know not why,

Because this is a celebration of

Life having been lived

And not a sombre lullaby.

 

So fill your glasses,

Cups and jugs,

And let’s see a smile on those

Ugly old mugs.

 

There’s a lesson too be learned,

and that is clear to see.

So without much further ado,

“Here’s to me!”

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Written by
c-m-1
Published
Jun 2, 2013
Lines·Words
41·226
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