Day 153:

Nov 30-The last day of the month. November has reached its’ termination. Morbid perhaps, but reality reveals our mortality. Most of us live like a coin. We enter the world heads first, then the rest of our lives our feet are in the grave. The tail end of our lives is waiting. We live on the edge of the coin of life, waiting for it to fall. In the spirit of this time of the month, this poem. Title: Last Day

What will you do on your last day?

What are the last words that you’ll say?

Life is fleeting, death comes our way

Did you think forever you’d stay?

Prepare to close this one act play

For we are nothing but the clay

The potter has made for today.

So live aright in sunshine’s ray

Sing praises and also to pray

This may sound gloomy, the skies grey

One day the bill comes we’re to pay

What will you do on your last day?