If I die
I am not a number,
or a room,
or a chair,
to die and for someone else to sit,
the next minute in my place.
I am not just a number that you add to the list of annual statistics of the dead.
I am not just a room,
to be rented out to the next person who comes after me.
I am me,
I have a heart,
I have a hand,
and lips that kiss my mother's hands.
I am me,
I have my feelings,
I have my dreams,
I have my pens,
my books,
and fingers that caress my brother's hair.
It doesn't matter how I died,
or where I died,
or why I died,
Let there be a funeral for me,
Even if I have no family,
let there be a funeral for me,
Let them pray for me,
Let there be a funeral and a dinner,
Though all those present will be strangers to me,
they don't know me,
But someone,
somewhere.
will be saddened by my passing,
They will be saddened that my heart has stopped beating,
and my inability to breathe air.
I am not a number,
or a room,
or a chair,
to die and have someone else sit down,
the next minute in my place.
If I die,
let there be a funeral and a dinner
and let my corpse embrace the same soil that embraces my mother and father.
YOU ARE READING
Feel
PoetryFlowers, bread, hugs, books, gifts, thoughts, words and pictures are all things that make us feel. They can make us feel happy, sad or exicted. Everything we touch and see , give us a feeling, in it's own way. Love, Sadness, Affection, Bruises, Kin...
