Recently I have found myself thinking about death, dying, the end, people dying everyday and how they die. I have a memory, I have been trying to figure it out, don’t know how I got it, can’t tell if it’s real or imaginary, but here is it, a memory of a man been killed by firing squad, in that memory I think I was about five, well here is the point of the memory, the point is how we die.

I think death isn’t easy, doesn’t come easy on any level, but think on this, wanna share two stories. First a young boy goes to school, lets say he’s six, says good morning to his mom who gets him ready for school, has a nice day at school, what could go wrong at that age? but he comes home and his mom is gone, dead, that’s it, no good byes or last words, advice or even share a secrets, got that, ok here is the second one, another young man goes to church, wonderful sermon, after that he get’s to have lunch, favorite drink, what could go wrong right? but then he is told his dad is gone, no goodbyes, no last words, lessons or even sharing a secret.

Ok the title for this one is still death row, think about it if you were on death row you will talk to everyone you have to talk to,  teach your last lessons, share your laughter and secrets, so lets live, like we are on death row, after all ain’t we all. Damn this feels too dark, am I dark?


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