Many Ways

There’s only one way in this world
For us to first appear;
There’s just one possibility
To get from naught to here.

Yet exiting’s a different thing:
So many ways of leaving;
And usually we have no choice
To be the cause of grieving.

We could get rammed while in a car,
Or crushed under a bus;
Or perish silently in bed
Without ado or fuss.

We might succumb to cancer,
Not survive a heart attack;
Perhaps while hunting with a friend,
We’ll get shot in the back.

An operation may go wrong;
Infection escalate.
A strange disease could sidle in;
A bomb could detonate.

Some folks drown or fall head-first
From roofs or down the stairs;
Others get attacked by dogs
Or mauled by grizzly bears.

Drugs can cause an overdose,
And lightning sometimes strikes.
Avalanches just might bury
Hikers taking hikes.

Bridges may collapse and fires
Can lick us with their heat;
Sometimes people get plowed down
While walking ‘cross the street.

Bullets penetrate and kill
And so do knives and stones;
But no matter how we go,
We’re all reduced to bones.

Still we plod along each day
Without really knowing
When and in what manner
We’ll eventually be going.

So we put it out of mind
As we take our next breath;
It’s easier to live our life
Than think about our death.