You've got to laugh

There’s a man lying dying in a hospital bed.

He’s my uncle.

And I think to myself “Why wait?”

“What’s the point?”

Just hanging around.

It’s all we ever seem to do.

Waiting to do right by everyone else.

And yet,

no one else gives a fuck.

OK.

On this hand I’ll count them.

So why am I hanging around?

Because, like him,

I've nothing better to do.

Weighed down with the responsibility of being,

we turn the whole thing into a comedy.

Hanging around.

Breathing our last.

Chuckling.

Because,

in the end we know that it's all a joke.