as i die, i always wonder
if birds will pause their chatter
if singing will bow, in the shower
if spark is found somber.
before my eyes close and i give in
to unknown and imagine,
i always wonder
if television will snail through dull scenes
if train will be. its behavior not bothered.
as i lay in depth, i can’t help but ponder
if my bed will miss me when it’s time
if pillows will repeal masks, wear sackcloths in ash
before i take my last breath, i question the ever
if eager, creative minds will hide and gnash
if fuss no longer must
if in memory, i will remain stronger
if factual stories will have me live forever.
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