Loaded gun

Each day another game of Russian roulette

Not knowing how many bullets in the gun

Life nothing more than a loosing bet

There could be six or one, or none

Three pounds of pressure on the trigger

From birth to the grave the chances so low

Sooner or later we'll get to know the grave digger

Disease, accident, war or murder we don't know

Not knowing when the explosion will happen

where, or when, or how

Old age, don't let it catch you nappin

To death we all must bow

Reviews

[jacob erin-cilberto]

what an interesting pose...even just out of the womb...we are already spinning the chamber.
in line 7 did you mean "later"?
I am not "nappin" now...I stay awake as much as I can at my age...so as not to miss a thing.
j.

[Soren]

Thanks Jacob yes another oversight "Later" I agree with so little time left I can't afford to nap.

[Coyote Poetry]

Powerful and worthwhile thoughts shared my friend.
"Each day another game of Russian roulette
Not knowing how many bullets in the gun"
I understand the above lines Soren. Thank you for sharing the outstanding poetry.
Coyote

[Soren]

Thanks Coyote my friend I appreciate your encouragement and gracious words.