The Promise (Poem)

He looked into her dying eyes,

And saw the dreadful anguish 

In her eyes, at 86, 

While death is staring face to face.

She said why, oh why?

Why does it have to be this way?

What’s the point of all of this?

In a state of disarray, 

From watching his loved one 

Passing away. 

He then promised himself,  

On that very day,

He would never ask that question 

On his dying day,

And he would live life to the fullest, 

Until his very last day,

So the questions

Would be irrelevant, 

On that same day.