His Last Tennis Game

He played his last game
On a hot and humid day,
Though still a young man,
Suddenly, his heart gave way,
The ambulance arrived too late,
They worked on his revival,
But sealed was his fate,
His parents, wife
And little daughter
Saw him turn blue and die,
And horrid was the scene
To see the small girl cry,
How cruel and how sad
That on a bright and sunny day
To lose a son, a husband, dad
And see him pass away.

One never knows
When fate decides
The die is cast,
Each hour of each day
Maybe your very last...

Alfred Charasz
Copyright 2006 Alfred Charasz