The doors to life are a small affair,
all shiny wicker and brass,
but the doors to death are solid affairs,
Black and tall, existing without a care,
for life is humble,
death is not, for life is fair,
it is death that is not.
Death be your constant companion,
for he never leaves your side,
all men walk with death, side by side,
some might even know he is there.
Friends are forever, Death may be too,
for life gets many a man down,
but while they complain,
it’s actually plain,
they like life too much to leave