Where to die is an unnoticed process. (poem)
Whether it is right or wrong, that is a divine thing,
the man is satiated in the longing for his life
without knowing that every second counts
ignorance of thinking that you do not know
years,
months,
weeks,
days.
Certainly after a while
is happy for the hours lived,
thank life;
a coffee,
one morning,
a rain,
a sunny day.
We all go there,
some advance others postpone,
only the last years is that you think
Where sanity fails, it goes straight to the slaughterhouse,
extensive experience in discernment.
Enjoy life, why?
turns out to be;
That dying is an inadvertent process.
