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PassedMidnightPoems
Somewhere between the dust and the stars, this is where we lie. Motionless. Humbled. I know. That when I pass on from this world There will be no new books penned no films that tell my tale no newspaper headline. I am. Unremarkable. If I'm lucky. Maybe a handful of people will shed tears. Maybe a single heart will break. Maybe I'll have flowers placed at my headstone yearly. Maybe Her voice will speak my name. Maybe. If I'm lucky.
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Mar 4, 2013
Mar 4, 2013 at 5:59 PM UTC
What We Leave Behind
Somewhere between the dust and the stars, this is where we lie. Motionless. Humbled. I know. That when I pass on from this world There will be no new books penned no films that tell my tale no newspaper headline. I am. Unremarkable. If I'm lucky. Maybe a handful of people will shed tears. Maybe a single heart will break. Maybe I'll have flowers placed at my headstone yearly. Maybe Her voice will speak my name. Maybe. If I'm lucky.
Written by
PassedMidnight
29/English
Mar 4, 2013
Mar 4, 2013 at 5:59 PM UTC
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