It Was in the Winter of My Fiftieth Year
When It Hit Me
I Was Really Alone
And There Wasn't a Hell of a Lot of Time Left
Every Laugh and Touch I Could Get
Became More Important
Strangely, I Became More Bookish
And My Home and Study Meant More to Me
As I Considered the Circumstances of My Death
I Wanted to Find a Balance Between Joy and Dignity
On My Way Out
Above All, I Didn't Want to Take Any More Shit
Not From Anybody