We are the ones on whose Tombs they'll inscribe: Died at fifteen Buried at seventy-five Out of the night we breath a sigh for those who are dead but cannot die. UNKNOWN
READ THIS IN A BOOK WHEN I WAS A CHILD THAT WAS ON MY MOTHERS BOOKSHELF. I DON'T REMEMBER WHAT THE BOOK WAS. I THINK IT WAS A PSYCHOLOGY BOOK. I NEVER FORGOT THE POEM THOUGH, I BELIEVE IT INTRIGUED ME INTO POETRY.