Silly,
Isn’t it?
That one can go to bed,
Only to never wake up.
Snap of the fingers,
Between life or death,
No matter how anxiously prepared,
One might be.
Life for my kind,
Was always brutish, nasty, & short;
Hobbes’ perfect example.
Death was frequent.
Common.
We just got used to death I guess.
We Just Got Used To Death I Guess.
