Live slowly, die quickly, depart softly.
We deteriorate slowly and rest in pieces.
Garner sympathy; linger longly.
When you buy the farm, they’ll sell the house.
We celebrate lives to avoid thinking about deaths.
With fest and jest we’re laid to rest.
Gone on to a better place is an assumption few wish to test.
Bite the dust here; spit it out there.
Die with your truths on.
Food for worms; companions for the angels.
Those no longer with us anymore party on a distant shore.