Contemplating mortality, I often wonder how I will be remembered. Will my mother remember chasing me around in diapers, laughter echoing down the hall?
By Dylan Johnson6 years ago in Poets
Despair, shaken to the core at the loss of myself. Supportive looks from the surrounding people, not knowing how to help. The world moves forward around me, time continuing its eternal march.
For you I wish for joy, and I will live within the sorrow. For you I wish for laughter, and I will continue to weep. For you I wish for sunshine, and I will move through the storm.
By Dylan Johnson7 years ago in Poets