There comes a day, my friend, when the man upstairs says, “That’s all, folks,” and then the play is done. I know it sounds corny, but it’s true, a tired truth, a truth I can’t ignore. I’m tired, you see. Very, very tired. I keep pushing, working, hoping, but really, what’s the goal here? Every day, I wake up, head out, come home, and nothing gets done, not really. Just a little work here, a little work there, and nothing ever comes of it. There’s no fruit to my labor, to my hopes and dreams. Now comes the time, and I don’t have anything to show for all my talents. A waste, that’s what I am, a tired waste.
But I’ll go, I don’t really have a choice there, when I’m called. Maybe the reviews will be better up there than they were down here. Who knows, maybe I at least gave the man upstairs a good laugh. A good laugh’s worth a lot these days.
Tale Told 
I don’t know how much this work speaks of self, but I wanted to say you are one of my favorite writers on WP and I get excited when I see you’ve written something new. You’re making differences in lives you’ll never know.
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Thank you. That really means a lot to me. Don’t be too worried. I don’t have any reason to think that the man upstairs is going to call me soon; then again, who knows? He takes some of us by surprise.
And when I go, y’all should know, it was a gift for me to give.
And what I sow, in joy and woe, I pray beyond my death will live.
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