i'll go tomorrow
to the hospital to visit a dying friend.
he's no longer conscious,
but just the same,
i'll touch his hand. say something
i'm unsure of.
merry Christmas perhaps or
i'll say goodbye.
but I know I won't be
coming here again.
i'll try and imagine
the end of my own life,
i'll compare his to mine.
no different, no better or worse.
but he's found his peace
at last
after years of living outside
the crooked lines.
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