Sibling Rivalry

Life is a brilliant gem of innocence.
Oozing in naiveté,
impervious to its surroundings.

Life is a sparkling child of time.
Each day it ends
And renews.
Because of this,
It doesn’t know any better
Than to mess up every now
and again.
When spirits are low
Or tensions are high,
People just shake their heads
and sigh
“Well, that’s Life.”

Life totters
Life has a beard.
Life is wise and aged,
like a fine wine.
It knows better than anyone else.
Life is capable
And deliberate.
When you trip into your soul mate’s arms
Or just barely catch the flight
Of a crashing plane
Life did it on purpose.
Yet people just shake their heads
and sigh
“Well, that’s Life.”
Death is a young,
a fickle toddler
hell bent on getting a new toy.
He’ll scream
And wail
And shake your foundations
Until you give in.

Death is a lonely baby
And yearns for attention,
Going to any measure
To be recognized
Or head.

Death stands tall.
Death knows no bounds.
He’ll climb mountains,
Cross rivers
Just to find you
To try and prove
He isn’t all that bad.
He’s here for the best.
And yet
Every time his name
Slips through the lips
Of an un-well house guest
Everything and everyone
Goes silent.
And someone will mutter
“Death is a nasty thing.”

Death huddles.
Death is covered in scars.
Death is misunderstood
like a feral cat.
He just wants to help.
When you’re bed-ridden and sick
or grinding your teeth in pain,
Death is there
to make it stop.
Yet people shake their heads
and mutter
“Death is a nasty thing.”