TMI, Coffee, and a Bagel

when he saw his death

he was utterly

unimpressed

it left him with a bland taste

like a stale treat

something you knew would be great

but crumbled away dry

and you never cared to finish

there would be no great painting of him

in the Museums of History

no story of him

in the memory of mankind

he would fall from existence

the way stains collect on old rugs

until one day you just assume

they were that color to begin with

so the question was left

what to do in that time in between

was his death so pointless

he could live without care of it

let Joy be his guide and principle?

was his life a shooting star

important only in its act of being?

was his death so pointless

that he might as well cash it in now

knowing it would gain no value?

was his death so pointless

he should just wait it out?

he had some coffee

then made up his mind