I am walking a silent corridor of faces.
Every person I’ve ever spoken to.
The hall goes on and on, never ceasing.
How many lives have I Impacted?
Have I affected even on?
Who remembers me?
Will my name be on the lips of others when I am gone?
I’ve tried to live my life with no regrets.
“who would I be without my mistakes?”
Yet I can’t help but wonder.
how many lives have I ruined?
What's worse, oblivion, Or infamy?
Truth be told I don’t want to die alone.
There wouldn't be single person to hear my last words.
Not missed or mourned.
And maybe it’s for the best
By the time I’m dead and gone, those who know me may breathe a sigh of relief
Maybe it’s for the better, who would suffer after the death of a miser?

Your like a gift so neatly wrapped in a blue Ribbon, your self worth is a gift but found in no man, not even in my words. Founded in the one who bled for the humanity. He made your ambition like a craving sweet tea in hot summer day, he made your love like a fever in the dead of the night being Touch my caring mom. He made your uniqueness like unheard notes played in the delays and reverb guitar pedals to capture hearts.
He made your charisma in the world of chaos to let it shine bright in the darkest hearts.

He made your skin like the dirt of Africa beautifully blended like the mountains of Afghanistan, he made your body like the  Dead Sea as so death is so beautiful,
He made you a gift with layers of a honey tree as I Pull every inch of bark it’s beauty to be captured.

I fell in love with a girl named Hope,
as she wrapped her cold hands around my throat.
And while I choked, I wrote "let's elope..."
She replied,
*"Nope. Even though that'd be dope,
I only came for what's owed. So, here's your last smoke and six feet of rope."