Waiting For My Turn

as the headlines repeat
the same things
another icon has gone
and then another loved one
and i wipe the sweat from my brow
because i've dodged
yet another bullet

then a week goes by
then a month
then a year
then five
then another 10

i've had a few close calls
a few urgent "slams" on the break pedal
a few brushes with a piece of meat
jammed into my windpipe
yet i haven't choked
i haven't rolled the car

yes in many ways
i have been spared from tragedy
and yes, i know i'm in my late 20s
but i sit in this chair
waiting for the end
waiting for my turn
to go