So many losses,
Young and old.
Tears and regrets
Of words unsaid.

‘They died too young’
Or, ‘They lived a good life’
So many things to say,
Legacies left behind.

Memories, laughter.
The one who passed,
Definitely is remembered.
So, why then,
Do I think of myself?

How will I be remembered?
What will others say of me?
Have I left a legacy?
Something that will make
Me memorable?

How many will miss?
Are there unsaid words?
Regret, behind my passing?
Its a selfish thing, I know.

But will I have left this world,
Better than it was?