When I die,

Only a few will care.

My friends, my family,

the ones who were there.

When I die,

People will say,

“That's sad.”

And go on with their day

like they currently had.

When I die 

They will forget my looks,

my words

and that I even had a place 

in this cruel, cruel world.

When I die,

I will be mourned for a year.

And after that,

My story will disappear.

When I die, 

A flower will be put on my grave.

However, no one will pass a simple gaze.

When I die, 

My body will decay. 

And my soul will be with the others who lay.

How I will die,

I do not know. 

Not until the grim reaper,

Steals my soul.