The Debt
He chose one.
One that was incomprehensible to the onlookers.
He died standing while the world looked on.
The bartender said he was on a third bottle.
He always never owes.
But today the man with the pitchfork came to collect his debt.
Soaking wet, you owe him on that first cry.
His debts are one everyone must pay.
Some hope to pay it in their sleep.
But all these are mere wishes.
The Grim One would reap whether ripe or unripe.
All it needs is an excuse.
A headache, a slip, cancer, heart attack.
All excuse is good for reaping.
Today he died standing.
The man in the white coat said he choked.
He choked on his own fluid.
The reaper would reap.
All it needs is an excuse.
See you next post
Still your friendly fairy on steemit
@bitfairy
Nice bityy the poet...