When I Am Laid To Rest

When I am laid to rest—
            Where I go doesn’t matter.
I’ll find out when I get there.

It’s where I’ve been—that kept me up.
            What would my legacy look like?  

Did I give meaning to life?
Did I create laughter?  

Did the fragrance of flowers fill my senses—
and not just this room of mourning? 

Did all the hurts I caused—
find healing?   

 Did I hear the answers to these questions—
            Or was I too late?

 Will someone ask—why? 
             will they know—
                        what I might’ve said?  

Were my eyes—
              still filled with wonderment?
Will people know life’s quota—
               was less than I desired?
                         That life was insufficient—
                                    to quench my thirst.  

 If not—the fault was mine.  

 In the end—
               you just need to be known,
I did not wish to go!
               I only longed to stay! 

 Don’t be sad—
               It’s a testament to you


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