We are constantly on this earth alone,
As I look around me,
All I see are faces,
Faces I won't even remember tomorrow,
Then one day our faces won't even exist as we're buried 6 feet under.
Isn't it crazy,
That all the things we go through,
All the things we do,
Will not mean anything to no one other than ourselves,
A question one of my students asked the other day was,
What would I choose to know...
When I die?
Or
How I die?
And I couldn't answer her, because somehow death isn't told to you nor is it something that we should know, it's part of life and its better to just let it wash over us than dwell on when or how or what.
