If I die,
Don't bid me farewell,
Box me up,
Put a pen beside me
And send me home.

When I die,
Do not lament for long
Publish my poems
So my audience will continue to be Happy.

Tell my mom not to mourn
Though am dead,
I still live within the lines of my poems,
Then the world will know you have done well.

When I get to heaven,
I will proudly show the pen to my creator
And ask him to bless the pen
With the ink that never dies
For the love of poetry.

If I die don't cry over me,
Gather your tears
As much as you can,
Then pour it on the little seeds of poetry I have planted;

If only they are sincere
They will save poetry from dying
Do these to show you truly care.