self-check

Bukowski wrote in one of his obviously later poems about his meeting with leukemia.
He couldn't keep the grim out of them
they didn't really do much but focus on
the death, the end, the bleak.

was it worth it, to even
ponder such things
to write it into his library

but alas is that not what
humans do
evaluate, consider, measure, judge and
seek to better their aim

for when death strikes its
arrival upon our head
and the time we have between
seeing the shadow of the fall
and the fall
if the thoughts we have about death
how we see it, approach it, and take it
before hand
match how we greet it when it's at hand
matches
then we can be safe to say that how we
judged, measured, and aimed ourselves in our lives
must have been right

and that of course means nothing to anyone
but rather, just us checking ourselves
to see how well we can self check