I have my life planned out
In a careful stone schedule
And I tap my foot while I wait for it to start,
Checking the clock on the wall every second or so,
Waiting for the alarm that signifies
It’s time to go.
I guess you could say
I just can’t wait to be king.
I write down all the mistakes that I won’t make
I have three versions of a things-to-do-before-I-die-list.
And I know that when I die, it will be in a car crash
On a Thursday evening
In January.
My will is written,
I still need to choose my epitaph.
Remember: Monday.
It’s written in my planner under "pre-calculus test."
My family knows I want to be cremated
My ashes neatly contained in a jar after I’ve burned.
The ghost likes organization.
My life and death are planned
Written in script so tight it’s painful
And my tired eyes can’t quite make it out.
But I know it already.
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