“The truth of the matter is if no one ever writes the stories,
Then no one ever knows”
I think about the people in the world,
The ones that come and the ones that go
I think about the ones who died
…Ninety nine point nine percent of the world didn’t care

We act like robotic machines
Going through the cycle of life
Not really alive
Most people are not here to live, but to survive,
     Yet why don’t we try and thrive?

Shane Koyczan put it like “this world doesn’t give a sh*t if we end in a train wreck
Or a car crash
If our story ends with a dot or a dash
If we were dust or ash”

The universe won’t care what we did in our life,
Whether we did right or wrong
We all occupy a spec of space in the world
Then in the next moment we will be gone

Our lives/our stories will be soon forgotten
No one will know we existed
Our stories will fade
Because memory can’t compare to what was written

As each generation passes
Parts of our stories get left out
Or sometimes are never told

I think about my story, my life
I want the world to remember me; I was here
I don’t want to get older knowing deep down I live in fear
One day I will die, and in the next forty or hundred plus years
No one will know I was ever alive
That can’t happen
I won’t let it happen.
People will remember me
My name, my story will strive

So since memory can’t compare to what was written
I’ll write my story down
So instead of being lost
I will be found
I only get one chance at this
A chance I don’t want to lose
I want to leave a deep scar on the world
Not just a tiny brown bruise

That’s why I write poems