The Man Who Died Twice
I was sitting in church
listening to the pastor
when someone screamed.
I turned around
and saw my friend’s mom in a panic.
“He’s dead!” she cried.
Her husband was sitting there
slightly slumped.
Gray skin, blank stare.
It appeared he was no longer there.
Someone called 911.
Pastor dismissed the service.
I went home thinking
I’d be attending his funeral soon.
Received the happy news he was alive.
He said he saw Jesus
and multitudes of children
all wearing different colors.
The next time I saw him, I said,
“You didn’t look so good last time I saw you.”
Understatement.
His family enjoyed him two more years.
And then he died.
Again.
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