Sometimes I wonder what the world will be like when I'm gone.
Will the sky remain the same color?
Will the trees still grow?
Will the stars shine at night?
Will the birds still fly?
But these aren't the questions that haunt me,
The one that hurt the most are ones that occupy my thoughts.
Would anyone notice?
Would they miss me?
Would they call my name?
Ask if I'm ok?
Or will I be just another forgotten memory,
Lost by those whom I asked to care.
Perhaps they'll find me in different people,
And maybe our stories will remind them of me.
Looking through our photos, would they shed a tear or two?
Would they see me in different things, that make them remember the ones I liked?
Or maybe they'll move on,
Unbothered by the non existent me.
Is it too much to ask?
To remember me, when even I've forgotten who I am.
So much to do in life, they said.
What's the point, when once I'm dead,
I'll be no more than a forgotten memory.
And won't hold any more importance than my gravestone.
For those who are here, please don't forget me, even though I've forgotten myself.
*~*~*~*
A/N: Idk what to feel about this one. I wrote this while crying at midnight so it's kinda all over the place. So sorry for that.
Don't to vote and comment.
I love you all! ❤️