You are my greatest fear, incarnated, with wrinkles as deep as the grave I will dig.
You laughed, once, when I asked whence they came.
But how was I to know of your joys?

All I see is a husk,
A broken husk that mocks me with each rattling breath.

You said to me once that you were happy-
Are you happy here, clinging to life in a hospital bed?
With a century’s worth of tar in your lungs?
I am not happy, here watching you die.

You chose this.
I didn’t choose this.

I have life. I am a success.
More than that-ha! I am your successor.

This waiting is inconvenient for me,
But I will wait for you to die.

Just don’t try my patience, old man.

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