I lie in bed at night
Wondering what it would be like
If I were dead
Not a very pleasant topic
I know
But important none the less

See, I don’t particularly want to die
In fact I quite like living
But sometimes
Sometimes you just wonder

Would they cry?
Would they share funny memories?
Would they know which poem I want read?
(It’s Do Not Stand at My Grave and Weep)
Would they miss me?
And most importantly,
Would they remember me?

After a while
Would they still think of me?
Or would I become
A faded memory
That only comes up
When looking through old photos

It may sound selfish
But I want them to remember me
Every year on my birthday
I want them to feel sad for a minute
Because they miss me

Is that reasonable of me?
To want to be missed
And remembered
When I’m gone