i hear people say
i sometimes even hear my own mouth profess
- what do our actions ultimately mean
when we will only become forgotten?
when i become the dead great grandmother
and my offspring always forget my name,
and it isn't inscribed in history books?
who will remember what we did?
our generation will become nothing but an era
and only a handful of our stories will be told
and we hope those chosen are the best.
it's how it always goes.
what we always forget is that
i write these words now because
someone did something three hundred
years ago and it ended up here.
that someone had someone centuries
before them do something that placed
those who'd come after them there
and so on.
i don't know what that person did
and i may only know fragments of
what came after, but it did something
it helped put me here.
so i tell you this
i tell myself this
- you will be forgotten.
what you did will be forgotten.
but you did something.
my unnamed actions will still walk
this earth long after i cease too.
isn't that both a wonderful and
haunting thought?
YOU ARE READING
Symptoms of Starlight | Poetry
Poetry"you've been brushed by the need for something greater, your head waits for a crown." In which a girl writes down everything from 2 am thoughts to afternoon drabbles to empowering poems in hopes it all means something.
