What if your last moment on earth
is a dismal corner in Birmingham
on the coldest night of the year?
What if you feel nothing as strangers
rifle through your pockets for the last
of your cash and stash as you fall?
What if the cold offers a rare kindness,
a lullaby, as your misery slips away
on the relieving receding relentless tide?
What if dying is better than living?