In thirteen days so far this month
It’s been my fate to see
A thousand thousand worries
Bound to bedevil me
Terror of dictators yet to come
The shock of getting old
Bitter warming of the earth
When it should be growing cold
In my mind I know it well
I’m powerless to affect
Any of these looming hells
That I can now detect
These worries may not be too real
They may not be justified
Still I sit here, tightly feel
As though I’m soon to die