I'Ll Live To Be 100

Poem By Diantha Gray

We have all been there
or likely will,
at some time in our lives
lose people we truly love,
and it is unbearable.
This, though,
is not a time for my reflection
or regret
of any unshared words or feelings.
This is only my experience
in the irony of life
or death
as I choose to see it
in relation to a popular saying
'The good die young'

I do not believe this 100%
but it applies to my life
and my loss
or the loss of their life,
however you choose to view it.
Right now, my inspiration of thought
is merely fueled by
cigarettes, a couple of beers, and a bit of laziness
Just a few sinful pleasures
that probably won't be the death of me.

Some years ago...
DAMN, almost eight years ago,
I lost my sister
car accident
and in four little words
I can portray her 'goodness'
~ she ~ was ~ only ~ thirteen ~
How 'bad' could she have been, right?
Of course she did falter,
into teenage peer pressure.
She was the last of her 'clique'
to smoke weed.
Even at thirteen,
that was quite an accomplishment,
here in 'hick town'.
I got her high
'The good die young'

Now, it's been about two months
since my mother passed away
Forty-eight years young
to Cancer
Never took a drag in her life
she had the lungs
of a chain smoker.
The ability of intoxication
after half a Zima,
with lime,
but a disease
that ate her stomach away
84 hours a week
she so rapidly debilitated.
Strict diet, no sugars
and the pancreas
of a morbidly obese diabetic failure.
'The good die young'

So, here I sit,
and take a long pull
of this Newport.
I quit smoking three times already.
Even at the pleas of my dead mother,
I continue to light up.
Drinking my beer,
sitting on my lazy ass,
I exhale,
without any fear
of its effects on my body,
because I have discovered life's secret.
'The good die young'

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