Oh Sleeping David

Oh sleeping David,
Did you ever think,
That the day would come,
When you would tighten the string?

Oh sleeping David,
Did your pen ever run dry,
Did you cry,
Using the tears as ink for a running letter?

Oh sleeping David,
How I did wait,
For a day to shake your hand,
To grasp it tightly in mine,
To smile with my mouth,
And with my eyes

Oh that day never came,
It hung out to dry like your pen,
Like your paper,
Like your mouth upon death

Did you ever think it would come to this,
Oh sleeping David?
Did you ever think,
That your students would wait?
Did you tell them something before,
to give them a sign?
Did your notebook know,
it would be your last entry?
Did your wife smile at you that morning,
Tell you she loved you,
Before she left for work?
Did you tell your dogs,
It would all be okay?
Did you pray?

Was there a signal of warning from your brain?
Was there doubt in your mind,
As you strung the string up the light fixture,
In the bright sunshine of that morning?
Did you test the weight?
Did you ever hesitate?
Or was the picture clear,
Of what would happen next?

Is there a heaven, oh sleeping David?
Did they let you in based on your merits?
Or did they turn you away at the gleaming gates,
And say go back and try again?
Did they turn you away because you sinned?
Or was it because you were immortal?
Because David you are sleeping,
And certainly not dead,
For I hold a manuscript in my hands,
And silently force-feed it to my head.

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