The letter came in the mail yesterday,

proof that I’m still alive.

Showing a milestone of sorts,

one I had little control over.

All I had to do was breath during the day,

sleep at night and wake up in the morning.

Seems like a very minimal requirement on my part,

sometimes taking the challenge too lightly to enter the club.

While the day commemorates stalling death

it also signifies opportunity.

Has this life made a difference,

or just another mouth breather?

AARP tells me something’s different about me now,

the question grows louder.

What will I do with the life remaining?


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