POEM: Worse Ways

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Every few days a villager steps from his hut

only to be killed by a falling coconut.

It’s a death with the taint of the inglorious.

Dying should somehow be more laborious.

But what’s more the mark of courage and grace,

than causing people to smile at Death in its face?

A life punctuated by one misstep is not to be bemoaned.

It beats a life whose living has been indefinitely postponed.

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