Cherry Vanilla

an Irish poem
(depressing in a way, like only the Irish can do)

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The days between here and dying

They may now be precious few
The time may be here for your spirit to go flying
And you wonder how much of it is up to you
The days between here and dying
Oh Lord please let me know what I should do
I need your voice to make the choice
'cause these are unlike any other days I ever knew
I call them the days between here and dying
And if I were to say that I'm not scared
I'd be a lion