When I have died,
Will the people I cared about come watch me
Eyes closed, unbreathing
In my coffin
Will people come and watch me
In admiration of what I had achieved, the course of my life
Or will they cast their gaze down onto my pale face
And say scornfully of what a terrible person  I was,
And that they were glad I am no longer there?
Will people look at me pitifully
Pondering of a strange reason
As to why this beautiful human
Had to depart forever?
But after the funeral, what?
So what?
Will what they say matter?
Will their grievances be like sounds lost to the winds
Carrying them far away to other lands?
Will I be remembered by them,
So that when they’re having
A casual conversation
Over tea or coffee,
Or just happened to be passing by,
Maybe they’ll see the light grey dressing of the clouds
Who wore the same outfit to my funeral
And will get reminded of me?

But, no matter what, my death
Won’t be that significant.
Many people die everyday. So what if I die?
It is just a natural course of life,
Inescapable, inevitable
Why is it such a big matter?
In fact, let my passing be as natural
As brushing teeth in the morning.
Better get it done and over with,
So that everyone can move on and start with the day
So fresh a mouth that a breeze can blow into it
And carry the scent to faraway lands.

Will life still move on?