The Good Outweighs the Bad Fifty-Fifty

The crypt door is about to close
upon my numb yet tingling toes
while the medical bills continue to stack
compounding interest on a chronic attack
as the doctor shakes his head in disbelief
and the loved ones do all they can to hide their grief
the tomb is quiet with time to think
siphoned by new media's boundless ink
we suffer and voice our genuine despair
for whom we don't know, nor do we care
but yearn for life like a wonder drug
bulging on the skin like a greedy bed bug
life feeds off life and ends in death
daring each of us to hold our breath
while the cost of living sings with glee
there ain't no such thing in the world as free
so we come and then we go
leaving others to reap and sew
the same conundrum we all must face
that nothing lasts in this holy place
except this notion that pushes us on
in spite of odds it may all be gone
to tighten our belts and remain thrifty
and hope the good outweighs the bad fifty-fifty.


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