The Expensive Sleep

I'm done trying to live.
I tried and I tried,
it's only been a few years though.

Maybe all of that was a mistake -
the desire to taste the good, and the filth
I tried, and I reckon I failed.

And I think I need to quit.
I'm not a quitter,
but then again everything has a first time. 

Suppose it's time to say goodbye
to all the swill and the smoke and all the fabled fun,
to lock that part of life inside the chest.

Grave ideas brace my mind
Death as painful and scary as it may appear,
strangely seems a little agonizing.

It's no wish, I don't seek death.
A coward, I'm afraid of dying.
But it still seems like less pain.

But then again, I can't die.
I can't afford death
It is an expensive drug.

It's that impasse again
I can't lose, it's not my fight.
And with what I owe the world, and the folks

I merely can't afford death.
As peaceful and serene as it may appear,
death is still an expensive sleep.

I'm no saint, I'm no significant,
yet, I couldn't let them regret giving birth to me
when they find me gone.

Never once have I considered
that a day would come
when I would day-dream about death.

Of all my day-dreams, death
appears the most unattainable.
I simply cannot die.

The stakes are high, the price is high.
It's way too far to reach.
Time and energy is scarce to try. 

I don't have the heart to die. It has gone rock solid.