Forgotten

I fear that the day I disappear,

The day that I turn to ashes,

And my body returns to earth,

I shall be forgotten forever.

That no memory of mine would live,

Among any of the people alive,

And the few who know of my existence,

Would soon cease to exist.

Will anyone ever look at the soil,

And wonder who it was before?

Will anyone ever look at the river,

And wonder whose tears flowed?

Will anyone ever look at a rainbow,

And remember that I loved them so.

Will anyone ever look at children,

And remember how I wanted my own.

Will anyone remember the person,

Who wrote of love and death,

In poems that not many had read.

How long before I merge with oblivion?

I know that the life I live will be short,

The memory of me would last a bit more,

But it will soon end too, nothing I can do.

And all I wish is to never have to wish,

To have lived better before.