The Cry

Do I deserve like any other
To be done with and used then thrown asunder?
Like those who have lived normal lives
Amused their kids and loved their wives?

Does the great mind not seek to be
Something different, something free
Of the scorn of years and time
And the ageing process that is mine?

Is my fate to be in the hands
Of mother nature, cruel and cold
Of that which has from the dawn of time
Plagued man and been his master?

So here I am, a man of great worth
Wisdom and worldly wealth
And even I cannot defy
The laws by which we live and die.

I cannot think just why this is
That all men are doomed from birth
It dims all concept, knowledge, truth
Of any human's worth.

The world looks upon us and laughs
At our efforts to deny this fact
That despite all our best efforts
Immortality is lacked.

Would it be perfect then I think
And quell that, yes it would
I would give anything but my life
To stop this final strife.

Is it a joke or do I have
Bare seconds left to live
Life liberty and happiness
Are now not mine to give!

I wrote this in about thirty seconds straight, to fill in a gap on a page in an English project - a poetry anthology, half other people's work, half your own, on a subject of your choice (I chose 'Death and the fear of death', 'cos it was dramatic and so easy to write poetry about).
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