Something tells me
My 40 YouTube subscribers
Won't cry when I'm gone.
I'm just glad I won't be around after I'm dead.
Because although it might be flattering
To see the ways people silently cared,
The time will come when the world will
Blink, simultaneously, and forget me;
When that occurs, the only thing
I could possibly wish for is a second death,
But such a concept is impossible,
Or at the very least improbable.
Death has a statute of limitations.
Homepage chiming in here. It's a nice enough poem.
Scant on imagery, but I suppose it's got some meaning or other.
But goodness' sake, why must it be so dreadfully sad?
I think I'll revise it to make it a bit more cheery.