"It"

We're all here for a reason,

To think otherwise is treason,

To life itself,

And you better think more of yourself.

My reason I don't know,

I've had close calls, but it wasn't my time to go.

I'm still here,

So what to fear?

Nothing.

Isn't there something?

Only if you're scared to live.

Can't fear the act to give,

Part of yourself,

To someone else.

Can't fear death,

Cause you'll rest when you rest.

You can stare death down,

Until the end of your days,

But don't wear a frown,

When you figure you never looked any other way.

Death comes so close you can feel it in your skin.

But that don't mean he coming in.

Death can surround you,

And you can smell of it to,

But that doesn't mean it's over.

You can hold a four-leaf clover,

And it can come for you on St. Pat's Day.

You can always stay,

In the same old place,

Thinking you have hidden your face,

So it can't see you,

But it'll still turn your face deathly blue.

You can write verses,

On it all day,

Or have nurses,

That can be there as son as you say,

But it doesn't care,

If you're praising it,

Or you dare,

To try to save yourself form it,

It will still come to visit,

When it's your time to dip.