It's a pretty good bet
I'm going to die.
Pretty much happens
to all of us
and excepting a quick
and sudden end
I'm not too sure how
I'll handle the final moment.

Repent all my sins?
Ask for forgiveness?
Beg for one more breath
other than the death rattle?
Or, just smile and let go?

But I have made plans
that rule out cremation
and that is to undo a fella
of whom I'm not too fond.
You know, the ones that always have
a bigger, better one to tell,
just to get in the last word.

He'll no doubt come to my wake
and pay his respects,
lay his hand on my casket,
praise my name
and say I was the best.

That's when I lock my eyes
on his and say, hypocrit,
from which he will have a heart attack
and I will have the last word.