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When is the hour, and who draws the line
And when will we know that it's passed?
That it stops being wrong, and it starts being fine
For us to leave the world at last
When a child becomes old, and their time runs out
Or the youngest of hundred year olds
Is there ever a due date beyond all our doubt
When life can release its last hold?
Is it all in the eyes of those left behind?
But what if there's no one to leave?
Or is it God's will, so eternally kind?
But what if you've never believed?
What does it matter, so long as your last breath
Leaves your body as you die a most dignified death?
Written for a school project about the movie Wit (2009)

Not quite satisfied but, for once, it rhymes... the iambic rhythm is off though, for a strict sonnet...
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January 11, 2012
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