by Katherine Miller

Created on: September 27, 2009

Mine is not to reason why.

There is no memories of years gone by.

Of who they were from my family tree

When I get old, who will remember me.

In fifty years when my children are gray

When I am near my dying days

Will my Grand Children and their children be

Aware of who I was and remember me

One hundred years from now, maybe two

She is sitting quietly thinking of who

Was my ancestor was she cool or sweet or like me

I am wondering will I be someone's memory

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