I think I'll end this life the way it began,
Screaming, starving, in total shock,
Naked and desperate for love of a woman.

I still have no clear clues or master plan,
Always fighting against my ticking biological clock,
I think I'll end this life the way it began.

Looking on, like a shell-shocked jilted best-man
Clutching the sobbing groom, taking stock,
Feeling naked and desperate for love of a woman. 

Crooked and wizened, wrapped in an ancient afghan,
Staring through the bars of this metaphysical cell-block,
I think I'll end this life the way it began.

Hanging from the window-ledge, like a rung-twice postman
Hiding from the suddenly returned husband, a laughing-stock, 
Naked and desperate for love of a woman. 

Trying to second-guess the events in our lifespan
Will only make us petrify into the bedrock.
So, I think I'll end this life the way it began,
Naked and desperate for love of a woman. 

---

Roger McGough, English poet, broadcaster and playwright, was born today in 1937.

Dylan Thomas, Welsh poet and writer, died today in 1953.

Steig Larsson, Swedish author and journalist, died on this day in 2004.