It is not death
That he fears
But an end without
meaning.
He needs to be seen
Heard, remembered.
For a fraction of
legacy
To remain
When he’s gone.
It is not forgetting
That I fear
But the loss of
memory.
The dimming and
Disintegration
Of experience.
Until I no longer see
What made me.
Took me time to read all the comments, but I enjoyed the article.
Posted by: buy essay | Friday, 04 December 2009 at 12:20 PM