The whiskey burns my throat even in the cold November air
As I sit out on my porch in my evening wear.
I let my mind drift away,
Not unlike the swirling snow
To the night I received a mysterious letter many years ago.
At first, I was confused.
But my curiosity grew
When they asked to meet on the bridge at midnight for a secret rendezvous.
As I put on my boots, gloves, and cap, all I kept thinking was "please, don't be a trap."
When I arrived, the air was thick.
And with my adrenaline rising, it was getting hard to breathe.
I waited and waited, and then you showed up just as I was getting ready to leave.
I screamed into the wind
"I got your letter! What is it you need?"
Then, what happened next, I could never have believed.
There you were, surrounded by an ethereal glow.
You, my love, who stole my heart when you left before it was your time to go.
To this day, I don't know if what I saw was real, or just a dream.
But it gave me hope.
And more importantly, it gave me peace.

Its the behind the scenes
That no one knows,
World's questions
Of greatest secrets,
Truly beautiful;
Greatest desire

Why so inquisitive little guy?
You threw your own feces at Miley Cyrus.
Ate a whole bar of soap.
Even carried Ebola virus.

While nosing around you got
zapped by a high voltage fence.
Stole a bunch of bananas from the dollar store.
But got probation cause it was your first offense.

You once smoked a pack of cigarettes
with Salvador Dali.
Then twice stated he spoke English
like a dumb tamale.

You ran your rental car off a cliff
in Malibu just for kicks.
Bought a case of Gorilla glue just to sniff.

Hanging out with Maury Povich
you copped a feel on Connie Chung.
Spent a complete summer strung out
in North Korea with Kim Jong-un.

You got caught peeking through the hole
in the wall of the girls' locker room.
Pleaded no contest when
the monkey business hit the courtroom.
Then told all in your sorted
memoirs, nom de plume.

You're a lazy obstinate chimp
who's too curious for his own good.
I'd say a future trip to the vet to get neutered
is a sure likelihood.

I wonder many things
When I am left to my thoughts
The words in my mind
A never-ending book of sorts.

But there is one question
That burns through all I know
A fire drowning out the noise
A clutching hand that will never let go.

When will my time come?
Is it a day, a week, a year?
When will my life be gone and done?
I will always wonder when my end is near.

Who will remember my name?
Who will bury me in that grave?
What songs will they sing?
What church bells will they ring?
And would life still be the same?

It is fear that I feel
When I am left alone.
Fear that pushes my to look at my phone,
Checking for messages
That may be a goodbye.
Checking for messages
Before I have the chance..to die.

I wonder many things
When I am left to my thoughts.

But it is that image
Of a coffin and a grave
With me stuck inside
Of the boulder closing shut the cave.

And most painful of all,
Sat watching the fire start to fall,
My dear family and friends,
Waving to the life that fades
In the golden glow that the setting sun sends..

The only question I really want answered
Is as simple as a white wall.
I suppose it is exactly like a white wall;
Open to interpretation,
Masked by paints and graffiti
Yet still just the same, blank wall as before.
My question, you ask. What is it?
Well, it should be straightforward but there are no answers
As of yet.
My question:
Where do we go when we die?