Perfect Copy

WEEKEND REFLECTIONS

http://weekendreflection.blogspot.com

PERFECT COPY

Stretched across the tiles,

The copy of the window.

Modigliani art.

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NO IFS OR BUTS

'IF I should die think only this of me.....'

Yes, so wrote Rupert Brooke in reverie.

But I think we should change the 'If' to 'When',

Unless, of course, you're not like other men!

There's no point having a little chortle,

Laughing and saying 'Hang on! I'm immortal!'

It's pretty certain you'll turn up your toes

And go the way that everybody goes!

If Einstein, with a brain excelling yours,

With cleverness oozing out of all his pores,

Couldn't work out a way to stay alive,

What makes you think that you will still survive?

No, the word is 'When'; accept the fact

And do not dream that you will stay intact!

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'Think ONLY this of me......'. Why just one thought?

I want the world to be unhinged, distraught!

I want my closest friends to meditate

Daily upon my death and mark the date

With solemn thoughts and pleasant reveries,

A hundred thousand lovely memories!

Of course, I understand that wont occur;

They'll simply pause and then respond 'Oh....her!'

They'll carry-on as though I never was

And that thought really angers me, because

Why should anything at all, on earth, go on
If the reason for its being...... me...... has gone?
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Rupert had a reason for his lines;

He was off to battle....bullets, tanks and mines.

He was going to an awful living hell,

Where death could come with any passing shell.

His poem was intensely patriotic;

Whereas, for us, such words are idiotic.

There is no 'If'; my death is 'When' and certain.

It's 'coming, ready or not', that final curtain.

Why should I quibble, live on hope or doubt it?

The only thing to do is laugh about it!

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