Sign Here

Raise the pen.

The gold tip seems to gleam in the twilight,

The curves and indentations somehow,

Magnified,

They seem almost surreal in the

Near black of night.

A drop of ink,

Falls

Amost smoothly

From the pen tip, to the paper.

As it flies down,

You see reflected in its gleam,

Faces

Faces

Faces

Of all those,

Whom you are signing off.

Let the pen slowly

slowly,

Touch the paper

The dotted line

Draw the lines and curves of the  D

Scratch out, the points of the E

With force you create the vertex of the A

And with the penultimate T 

You follow with H

You place the lid back on the pen.

Engraved on it: Aim High.

You have done just that,

By signing off millions

To die.