Long Live Her

What will they say about me,

Once I am gone?

Will they say that I was kind?

Will they remember how I made them feel?

Will they know that I wrote poetry to breathe?

And that so often I stopped breathing just to satisfy the others.

Will they know that I lived my youth to make my grandfather proud-

But that I forgot what that meant?

Will they know that I often trembled at the sight of my own shadow?

Will they know that I dimmed my light?

Will they know that I wasn’t always brave?

That I looked in the mirror sometimes and didn’t like who I saw.

Will they still love me once they know?

Who will tell them?

That I was sensitive to energy, and that’s why I frowned.

That I smiled just like my mother because she taught me how.

That when I was brave, it was because she taught me that too.

If I die too young, will they care?

Just another young girl who passed away.

If I die old, who will remember, the old woman who lost her way?