Contemplation on the Transience of Life and Friendship

Borrowed Time

On hearing what her fate does bring,
The halcyon days with my best friend, gone,
Forever; who can live without concern?
Each second of being is borrowed time.

Nothing death leaves but a vacant space,
A place I’ve avoided for quite a spell.
My friends will come & pay their respects,
After food & dance will return to their homes.

& my family will probably still be crying,
As my friends organize their next party again.
Once you’re dead, what happens then?
Your presupposed nature will reel you in.

Poem: Bogey: A Captivating Moment of Life, Death, and Celebration